Bottom Chuuya - Tumblr Posts

Hate when I'm looking for fics of my faves as bottoms or otherwise very submissive with the reader n all I see are fics written for the Bottom GazeTM like can we as a society please for the love of god cater to those of us who just want to see chuuya nakahara in lacey see through rose-covered lingerie and fuck him into submission please I'm begging you. This is top/switch propaganda and I will not be silenced

Good Doggy🐶

Pet play | Sub!Chuuya X Dom!Reader

"Hey, can you have these signed and copied by Wednesday?" Your coworker asked as she handed you a thin pile of papers from outside your cubicle. "Sure!" You said as you took them, getting a few inches up from your chair as you did then quickly sitting back down.

"You've been on your desk for hours, Y/N," the coworker said, impressed. "How do you do it? If it were me I'd be aching all over by now!" You chuckled at her comment. "Oh, I just have a lot of motivation, I guess." You said bashfully. Your friend was then called by another coworker and the conversation ended. You watched her walk away, making sure she was out of sight before--

You heard a noise, your thoughts interrupted. It came from underneath your table. A smile invaded your lips as you looked down cheerfully.

Chuuya's mouth was covered in a cage-like muzzle which made it hard for him to talk or make any noise, not like it stopped him. The poor orange haired man was crouched underneath your desk, a collar around his neck that was tied to a leash that connected to the stem of your chair. Despite his annoyed, uncomfortable expression, you couldn't help but notice the rosy color to his cheeks and the longing in his eyes. He's been begging for you to touch him all morning, aching for the warmth of your skin against his. There was something even warmer down in his nether regions, like a fire in his groin. It wasn't just the humiliation of being stuck in such a position that got to him, not even the fear and dread of being caught by a nosy coworker and not even knowing how to explain, but the fact that he had to sit still while getting a front-row seat to your scent, your thighs, your legs, and your pussy that's been leaking such sweet-scented juices right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do but sit there and wait for your shift to be over. Not only that but he also had to wait for everyone's shift to be over for you and him to leave without anyone noticing. He started wondering how he even got to this predicament, more importantly how you managed to talk him into it.

Chuuya has always prided himself in his aggressive, dominant nature. It's a trait of his that he flaunts proudly, especially around you. Sure, when he first got to know you, he was definitely attracted to you, or more like something about you. There was the sound of your tall, polished red heels, the sultriness in your voice, the color of your lipstick, and the overall aura that separated you from his other partners. You weren't someone who would submit, you were someone who would dominate.

At first, when the two of you began your little escapades, he had noticed the difference in your performance. You didn't obey his every command, instead you would make one of your own and he would submit. Upon hearing "Come here" you would say "no, you come here". If he was right you were left, if he was up you were down. Everything about you went against everything about him, and something about it made him want you even more.

And when you had proposed this idea, this barbaric, invisible little show meant only for his eyes and your own, his own dominance that he was once prided in himself had already been chipped and scratched, leaving room for yours. It wasn't just the action itself, it was the fear of an audience, the fear of being found out, the fear of someone standing just a little too close and finding mafia executive Chuuya Nakahara of the Port Mafia, the feared and praised gravity manipulator, on his knees like a dog, being denied any sort of dignity and being moulded into a pliant, subservient little slut.

It was his pride that brought him up, and it will be his pride that breaks him down.

You caressed his cheek, watching him melt at your touch, the bare minimum of what he's been aching for all these hours, and chuckled lowly.

"Don't worry, Doggy." You said, a shadow over your eyes like a dark cloud overcast. "She's gone now, you can relax." As if that would magically take away the thrilling anxiety of the situation. "And maybe if you're good, I'll give you a little treat during my break, how about that?" Your smile looked so innocent, so pure, yet he knew there was an evil hiding behind it. A darkness unfolding one button at a time.

You're not done with your good little Doggy just yet.

sub chuuya awakened smth in me .... . .... ...!!!!*(3uio34uyhjnm7eyuhjnm

REAL his ass is mine

Also YESSS spreading the sub chuuya agenda one smutty fanfic at a time !!!!

Kinda feel like writing sumn

✨️toxic✨️

So here's some possessive/yandere fyodor x chuuya heehooo let's go fyoya nation

Godly Possession

tw: yandere themes, possessiveness (duh), obsession, fyodor give dazai his man back, dazai fighting for his boo thang, I love torturing chuuya, I'll add more later cause tbh I'm jus winging this, noncon

______________________

Chuuya wasn't a god.

Far from it.

His own irritability, his pride, his insecurity, and even his own body was far from it.

But his ability was something different.

With the powers of Arahabaki, he was the closest you could get to an actual, real life God.

And as the prophet, the speaker of the heavens,

It was Fyodor's birthright to own him.

To keep him for himself to be used how he see fit.

He lured Chuuya in first. A house built with his ability in mind. Some say the only way to speak to a god is to pray to him, but to Fyodor, he decided to force him down to his level. Low enough for him to hear. To listen.

Trapped in a room cased with anti-ability technology, all he could do was fight and yell until Fyodor decided he was ready to talk.

He could've wasted hours talking down to him, telling him he's nothing but the Port Mafia's little guard dog, tied down so much that they no longer needed a leash, he simply followed his masters on his own. He was a rabid beast with incredible power, being used at barely even a half of what he could be.

Fyodor gave him a choice at first. He could join him willingly or not. But saying no was not an option. He said he would submit to him eventually, Fyodor was sure of it.

Then began the period of starvation, abuse, mistreatment, all things Chuuya took with gritted teeth and resilience in his eyes. Nothing would tear him away from the Port Mafia. Nothing at all.

Fyodor would bring him food three times a day, meals that Chuuya assumed were laced with something harmful, anything from sleeping pills to mind-controlling technology, he wasn't sure what Fyodor had up his sleeves. All he knew was that it wasn't poison. Definitely not. He needed him alive.

He needed his ability.

When Chuuya didn't eat, Fyodor starved him until he was too weak to fight him off as he spoonfed him. Yet the ginger haired man stayed resilient, hesitantly opening his mouth with his eyes fixed on the dark haired man.

Despite his boredom, he stayed seated the floor, too caught up in his pride to use the soft, comfy bed he was provided. One with soft white sheets that welcomed him more the longer he stayed.

He hated the feeling of it, but he didn't bathe for days. That bathroom was for expelling waste only, and even that was far too much of a risk. Chuuya hasn't a clue what Fyodor could be hiding in there, what plan he has in store for him.

Fyodor would come in and stay for hours, talking, trying to entertain the poor boy. He didn't bother to give him anything else to do, the point was something he called subtle torture. He didn't want to hurt Chuuya, not that much anyway.

It was all a battle of the mind. Fyodor would have been more challenged by someone like Dazai, and Chuuya knew that. So he chose to disclose as little information as possible. Refusing to answer questions, cursing him out every chance he got. He wasn't properly armed for this war, but he would fight in it anyway.

At some point, after maybe 3 or 4 months of this back and forth, Fyodor had had enough. He grew impatient with Chuuya's constant rebuttals, his answers that bounced back on his questions, revealing nothing. Unbeknownst to the redhead, Fyodor didn't want information. He didn't want anything to do with the Port Mafia. He wanted him.

Fyodor decided to punish him in a way that would forever change the entire atmosphere of this little game forever, altering the dynamic between the two. If Chuuya wasn't going to submit to him, he might as well fuck it out of him.

With the looming threat of Fyodor's ability, Chuuya wouldn't be able to fight back. Knowing he could end his life at any moment, any sign of rebellion, was enough to force him to obey. Fyodor kept his hands on Chuuya's body, from his wrists to his arms to his chest to his waist. He kept in contact with him throughout the entire love making. His cock stuffed inside of the poor boy, exiting and entering at such a slow pace, it frustrated him. It took a lot of work, but finally Chuuya started to beg. Not for him to stop, but to at least go faster. He couldn't bare this slow fucking anymore. He needed to cum, to release, even if part of him didn't want to. His stupid little monkey brain was giving in to the feeling, to the sensation of Fyodor's skin against his, his cock shoved deep inside him, while his true brain simply wanted to leave, to break a hole through the ceiling and use his ability to fly out of here. He hadn't felt so powerless in so long, and it was all in the hands of him.

After what felt like hours, all Chuuya could do was lie on the bed where Fyodor had fucked him, finally forcing him into the sheets. His body was absolutely wrecked, bite marks and bruises littering his skin. There was cum on his stomach and chest and even more seeping out of him. His breaths were shallow and uneven, and his eyes bore holes into the ceiling. They were tired from aimlessly wandering around the room, quickly and unsteady, trying to find a way out. But there was none.

"I hope you will be more willing to bathe now," Fyodor broke the deafening silence. It seemed like all he could hear for a couple minutes was his breathing, and the subtle sounds of Fyodor shuffling around next to him. He hadn't removed any of his clothes during the intercourse, all he had to do was pull his cock back into his pants and put his ushanka back on.

"I can do it for you." He said.

"P...piss off..." Chuuya slurred tiredly.

"Take my hand, Chuuya." Fyodor demanded calmly, stretching his opened palm out to him for the redhead to to accept.

"Don't...ffffucking call me that."

Fyodor didn't take that for an answer. He grabbed Chuuya's wrist and pulled him up from the bed. He struggled to get up, but as soon as he was stable on the floor he was pulled into the bathroom. It took him a little longer to catch up, as his legs still weren't working properly. As soon as they got in he walked even slower into the bathroom, too cautious for his own good.

"Don't be scared," Fyodor reassured him, "all I did was ability-proof the room, I did nothing to it that would put your safety at risk."

He got the redhead into the tub, and started filling it up with warm water. He winced at the touch of the initially cold water touching the bruises on his legs.

"Does it hurt?" Fyodor asked. He tried undoing the tie in Chuuya's messy and unkempt hair, but the man pulled away and did it himself, even if his wrists were sore from the hold the other had on them.

The two watched the water fill up the tub in silence. Then, Chuuya let Fyodor wash the gunk that's been building up in his hair the past few days, albeit unwillingly, then his hands cascaded down to his chest and arms. Fyodor was even careful enough to go easy on the parts with bruises and bite marks, which Chuuya still didn't appreciate. That's okay. He'll learn to appreciate everything Fyodor does for him soon.

Chuuya doesn't talk much after that. When Fyodor asks if he wants to eat, or if he wants to partake in a friendly chat, he just looks at him with the same resentful eyes then looks away. It makes Fyodor chuckle to himself at how much he's trying to fight back now, like a wounded dog growling at him to stay back, knowing it's too weak to do any real damage.

Fyodor watches Chuuya eat. At least, he tries to, but his wrists are still sore, which makes his hands shake and tremble as he tries to bring the spoon up to his face. Fyodor gets tired of seeing this and gently takes the spoon out of Chuuya's trembling hand, and brings it up to his own mouth, blows on it, then brings it up to Chuuya's.

He hesitates, then takes the spoonful of food into his mouth.

"Good, isn't it?" Fyodor asks as he watches the redhead chew.

Chuuya just looked away with a "hmph."

Hmm. Still not getting to him.

Fyodor would have his way with him every couple of days after that. With each thrust, with each pull, bite, bruise, with each grip on his wrists, he could feel a piece of Chuuya's soul cracking away.

One morning, Chuuya woke up to the feeling of warmth on his skin. A feeling he has long forgotten. He opens his eyes and they immediately ache with the feeling of something bright creeping into his-

Sunlight.

It's sunlight.

He shuffled up into a seating position and saw it. A long, slender, rectangle of sunlight appeared in front of him.

A window.

Now, if the same Chuuya Nakahara who first entered this little trap had seen this window, he would've smashed right through it to freedom. Call the Port Mafia for backup. Arrive with an army to take Fyodor down. But this wasn't the same Chuuya Nakahara.

He's long gone now.

Chuuya stared up at the window, this feeling of warmth being unfamiliar on his skin.

The thought of using it to escape didn't even cross his mind.

"Do you like it?" Came a voice. Now that was familiar.

Chuuya slowly looked back to find the same face he's been seeing throughout these past few months, the same dark hair, the same ushanka, the same coat.

"I figured you would like it," He said. "I blocked it out before you came, and I opened it this morning. What do you think?"

"....it's warm." Chuuya said softly, looking down. He felt like he had to shrink in Fyodor's presence.

The man put a cold, slender hand on his face and lifted it slowly to look up at him.

"You know," He started, with Chuuya's eyes fixed up at him, his face weak and starting to rest completely on Fyodor's hand.

"You may have been feeling weak while in here, but actually, I believe you are just as strong as you've always been.

I think your power is just....under new guidance."

"...guidance?"

"Yes. Guidance.

From now on I will guide you, to use your ability for the better. Wouldn't you want that....

Chuuya?"

He took his hand out of the man's face, and stretched it out in front of him. Asking him to take it.

The redhead paused. He looked down at the hand in front of him,

And took it.

He took his hand and let him call him Chuuya.

All his walls have broken down.

He himself has broken down.

All he is now is a dog for Fyodor to use, a puppet, a weapon.

Mind completely taken over by the man in the black coat, the speaker for god.

But now he had his own god he can control.

"Chuuya," someone called for him.

It was Dazai.

A once familiar face seems to be all a distant memory now.

He had found him here, atop a tall building, at the very center of one of Fyodor's plans.

"It's been a while, aye, Slug?"

Chuuya didn't know what to say.

He didn't know how to talk to Dazai anymore.

All he knew was Fyodor and his cause.

He didn't even stop to think if he agreed with it, he just knew he had to obey him.

"So this is where you've been this past year?"

Year? It's been a year already? How long was he inside that room? It couldn't have been that long...right?

Chuuya turned away. He wasn't ordered to kill Dazai, in fact, he said nothing about him being here. Did Fyodor not expect him? No, he must've seen him coming. He knows everything, and Chuuya knows nothing. That's how it works, right?

.....right?

"Looks like ol' Fedya's got you wrapped around his skinny little finger, huh?" Dazai continued. "I mean, I knew you were never that smart, but c'mon, Chuuya! You're better than that!"

What was supposed to be the same playful banter these two had exchanged so often had now grown stale. Odd. Unfamiliar. Chuuya didn't know how to react to it, or if he even should. He didn't get any orders from Fyodor regarding Dazai, so he didn't know what to do here.

"Chuuya." He said. His tone was stern and serious. He rarely ever sounded like that. Chuuya didn't seem to know him that well anymore, or even remember him that much, but he had a vague image of what he was like, despite it being altered by Fyodor's manipulation.

"Do you remember that name?" He asked.

The redhead turned around to face him.

"Only I can call you that." He said.

At this point the redhead didn't know if that was true. His past has been flushed out by Fyodor, he couldn't even remember if people called him by that name before.

"And only I can take your hand."

His palm was open, outstretched, ready for him to take.

Just like Fyodor's was.

But this was different. The way his name sounded in his voice, the way his hand poked out of his tan trenchcoat, which revealed a little bit of the bandages wrapped around his arm underneath. It felt like something he hadn't felt in a while.

In a world of cold, he felt warm.

"Come back to me, Chuuya." He called.

"Your power was never meant for him. It was for you."

Chuuya was starting to remember. The foggy vision of Dazai in his head began to grow clearer.

He remembers meeting him out in the slums when they were teenagers, kicking him into the wall with his ability.

His ability.

He remembers their first mission together, and their last. He remembers everything in-between, the banter, the fights, the anger, and yet, the quiet, somber moments, too.

He remembers joining the Port Mafia. He remembers Dazai leaving it. He remembers the wine he drank the night he left. A 1964 Romanèe-Conti. He remembers the way it tasted. He remembers the way it felt.

He remembers Dazai's touch, his skin against his own. Warm, it was warm.

He wondered if he took his hand now, would it still be warm?

Would he feel the way he did back then?

Would he even remember it?

All of it?

He didn't know.

He had to take a risk.

Not because Fyodor wanted him to, not even because Dazai wanted him to.

But because he wanted to.

Chuuya's hand reached out slowly.

Chuuya. His name was Chuuya.

It sounded different in his voice, in Dazai's voice too.

Did it sound different in other people's voices?

In Kouyou's?

In Ace's?

In Higuchi's?

In Akutagawa's?

He had to know.

He stepped closer, and held onto Dazai's hand.

His ability activated, and Chuuya's stopped.

It was a warm kind of day, he realized.

He didn't notice it until now.

_____________________

THIS TOOK ME ALL DAY I AM TIRED AND IM SORRY IF ITS NOT THAT GOOD AMD I JUSY REALIZED I WAS SUPLOSED TO DO AN EXAM AND I DIDNT OH SHIT OHHHHH FUCK

anyway

My tummy hurts cause I ate too many noodles so here's a ranchuu smut for the soul

| Jealous ranpo, chuuya and dazai are broken up, ranpo showing the whole agency how fucked out he made chuuya, top ranpo, bottom chuuya, ranpo's a teasing jerk, edging, HELLA creampie, chuuya being a submissive lil boy, this all could've been avoided if these two just stopped yappin, might be forgetting smth lmao

Currently obsessed with ranpo fucking chuuya with his glasses on, so he can deduct everything that's happening to his body

Like I am a ranchuu truther but arguments are the lifeblood of their relationship

Chuuya goes on a rampage while ranpo is absolutely unfazed, throwing out witty remarks like it's candy on halloween

(Actually I feel like ranpo would be the one getting candy on Halloween, or just keeping it for himself)

Anyway since chuuyas an emotional mess and he just wants to hurt ranpo at this point he goes for the biggest insult he can find: his ability.

A whole "Your glasses don't do shit" this and "nobody wants to tell you cause of your relationship with the boss" that and ranpo's finally looking up from his bag of candy to give him a confused kinda look

He's silent for a second, and chuuya thinks he's finally gotten under his skin, then ranpo chuckles and pulls his glasses out of his pocket

"You wanna test that theory, hat boy?"

In a moment Chuuya is pushed against the window, seated on the small baywindow by it with Ranpo's leg between his thighs, pushed against his aching groin.

His lens shines in the moonlight, bright green eyes illuminating the scene, analyzing chuuya's movements with a smirk.

"What's wrong, Chuuya? Your heart's beating a mile a minute," Ranpo teases, as his hands creep up the redhead's waist, searching for his most sensitive area until he finds it.

"Could it be that I'm getting under your skin? Well it can't be helped, especially when I touch you here,"

Ranpo caresses Chuuya's lower back with his slender fingers, causing the redhead to jolt upwards, shifting the position of his cock inside his pants. Ranpo's knee hits a new spot, adding more voltage to the redhead's newfound sensations.

Ranpo traces a line down Chuuya's back, slowly and carefully, ensuring that the latter feels every single movement. Chuuya looks up, both as a response to the touch and to shroud his face in embarrassment, away from Ranpo's greedy little eyes.

Now Chuuya's trying his best not to make any sound, and all that comes out of his mouth are soft grunts, almost like a whisper, but Ranpo catches it. He always does.

"These glasses," He says, inching his face towards Chuuya's neck. It's easy since he's looking up, practically giving it to him. "Are helping me deduct your every movement. Every heartbeat, every throb of your cock, I can sense it, y'know. So who's to say my ability isn't real?"

"Agh, asshole..." Chuuya grunts, scared to look down and come face to face with Ranpo's gorgeous eyes. Ugh, God did him a favor by giving him those eyes. He could get anything he wants out of Chuuya with just a look.

Ranpo's greedy eyes glint in the moonlight. "I can drink in this sight of you all night..." He muttered, just so that Chuuya could hear. He gives his neck a nibble, stimulating every little nerve in the redhead's body. That asshole really does know him, or maybe his glasses are the real deal? No, impossible, that guy could never-

"You like when I do this to you, right, Chuuya?"

The latter is taken aback.

"In such a worrisome lifestyle, sex is pretty much the only way you can de-stress without hurting someone." Ranpo starts, and Chuuya's listening, both wanting and not wanting this to go any further.

"But you don't want to be doing the hurting, do you? No, in a world where you're in charge, you make the decisions, you lead everyone, doesn't it feel nice to be led? To be listening, to be following someone? It feels nice letting someone take charge for a change, doesn't it? You just want to be the toy, the puppet to be used and used over and over again, isn't that right, Chuuya?~"

"Ngh-" Chuuya grunts, but he knows what Ranpo's saying is true. He wants to be used, he wants to be manhandled and taken, he doesn't care how far he goes he wants him to fuck him like no one's fucked him before, and he wants Ranpo to be the one doing it.

"F-fine," He grunts, letting someone else take the lead felt more foreign than it should. "You can...you can do what you want to me..." He says.

"Ah-ah-ah..." Ranpo says in a sing-songy tone, wiggling his finger. "There's something I want to hear first."

For a second Chuuya's mind goes blank. It's hard to realize how this whole thing started in the first place. But soon, he gets it, though it may be a little embarassing.

"I'm..." He starts, looking away to ease the embarrassment. "I'm...sorry. You-you do have a-an ability, Ra-Ranpo. I'm sorry."

That was hard enough, but the man wants more. "And?"

"And your glasses work fine."

"And?~"

"Oh come on!" Chuuya gets frustrated, the knot in his stomach getting even harder to ignore.

"You know what I want to hear, Chuuya~" he teases. That jackass.

"I...I want you to fu...fuck me, Ranpo. Please."

Hm. His smirk grows wider than it was before.

"Well if you're that desperate, you should've just asked~"

In a second, Ranpo's face is buried in Chuuya's neck, drinking in the expensive perfume. He doesn't even need to look to undo Chuuya's pants and yank it down to his feet until they're left messily on the floor. Ranpo undoes his belt, and from his trousers, rises a thick meaty cock that Chuuya never expected this annoying little guy to have. I mean he's not even much taller than Chuuya! Not even more muscular!

"You took a while to get the memo," Ranpo says, placing his hand around his wet cock, precum leaking from the top. He used his hand to lather it all over, lubing it up for Chuuya's tight hole.

"Just know this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gotten so angry from the get-go."

It took a second, but soon Ranpo was deep inside Chuuya's warmth, his girth spreading him out the way no previous lover ever did. He grunts as he pushes it in further, wanting to reach Chuuya's special spot.

Chuuya gasped and his breath hitched as Ranpo went deep inside, his insides have never had to stretch like that before. He's surprised he didn't cum just from that one thrust alone.

"Fff...fu-uck...." He winces as he speaks, hoping that focusing his mind on talking would get his mind off this huge thing inside him.

Finally, Ranpo reaches his prostate, making Chuuya flinch aggressively as he does so. He takes a moment to get used to the tingley feeling it brought him, and when he calms down, Ranpo decides to move.

He does so without warning or need to be told, he can deduct from Chuuya's heartbeat and body language alone that he's ready. It's funny, Chuuya never had to have somebody take control of him like this before, it felt odd, but, also kind of nice.

Ranpo's cock makes its way in and out of him, stopping once only the tip is inside before thrusting back inside him. Meanwhile Chuuya is a mess, moaning and whimpering like a common whore.

"Hey, did Dazai ever make you feel like this? Huh? Did he ever make you moan like that for him?" Ranpo bullies more pleasure out of the poor man.

"Next time you come over to the agency, why don't you tell him how much better I fucked you. Much better than he ever did. You want that? You wanna tell Dazai how much better my dick is for you? Say it, Chuuya. Say my dick is better."

"You-ah! Your-your dick-ahn! Ah! Hah, hah, your dick i-is better, it's better Ranpo, it's b-better! Ahn!"

"What a slut. All I asked for was a simple reply, and now I got you moaning from my cock alone. I didn't need all that reassurance! Just proves how much you fucking love it. Don't you? You love it, don't you, Chuuya? Say it! Say you love it!"

"I-I-I love it! Hah, I love it! Fuck me, Ra-Ranpo, fuck me! Fuck me! Aahn!!"

Chuuya starts moaning in a higher pitch, his legs are shaking like crazy and his grip on Ranpo's back is getting harder. He knows what that means. With one swift movement, Ranpo takes his hand and places it on Chuuya's cock, blocking any cum from being released with his thumb. Chuuya practically screams, his body desperate for the feeling of release.

"You think I'm just gonna let you cum just like that? No, I'll make you make me cum 7 times before I even let you cum once. That's once for every one of my friends at the detective agency who I want to know how good I'm fucking you on my cock like that. Including Dazai. I'll make sure you tell them after this, alright? Tell them how good I'm fucking you. Okay?"

Chuuya wasn't given any time to respond. "You better make my dick feel immaculate right now. The sooner I cum, the sooner you can, too."

Chuuya desperately made his hole tighter for Ranpo's cock, making the latter roll his head back in pleasure. He thrusts in even faster, making Chuuya see stars.

"Count with me." He orders.

"Gh, gh-hck, o-one," Chuuya chokes out, feeling Ranpo's thick cum erupt inside of him, entering each deep crevice of his insides.

Thrusting even more.

"T-two,"

Cums inside again.

"Th-hah! Hahn, th-reeee," Chuuya eyes are asymmetrical, one eye open and one eye almost closed. He can feel the thick liquid seep out of him, spilling out from between the walls of his hole and Ranpo's meaty cock.

He thrusts in even faster. Chuuya doesn't know if this is done out of mercy or for Ranpo's own pleasure.

He cums again.

"Foouuur,"

All while Chuuya's own neglected cock is leaking all kinds of precum.

"Fi-iivvve,"

His cock is red like it's about to burst.

"Si-hah, hah, siiixxx,"

Ranpo's cock is abusing Chuuya's poor little prostate so heavily that he thinks it'll never recover again.

"This time," Ranpo says with a glint in his eyes," I'll let you cum with me. This one's for Dazai. I want him to know exactly how much better I'm making you feel. Much better than he ever did. This one's for all the times he's made you cum, and marks how I've ruined you for him. No matter what happens between you now, you'll know that no one will ever fuck you as good as Ranpo Edogawa. You got that, Chuuya?"

Chuuya could barely make out what he was trying to say. With a fucked-out look on his face he nods lazily, and with that, the two cum together. Chuuya's ropes of white strands splatter on his chest, his legs, even his face and his hair. Ranpo cums so hard it shoots the cum that was already in him deeper inside, reaching much farther than it ever did, while leaking out so much there was a trail going down the wall underneath the baywindow Chuuya was sitting on and started leaving a small puddle on the ground next to their feet.

Chuuya stops breathing for a second, instead gasping as he looks farther and farther upward, the strength of the orgasm hitting him like a truck. He rides it out, and then collapses with his back against the window behind him. Ranpo pulls out, and watches the endless waves of cum erupt from Chuuya's stretched out hole like a waterfall. He carries the shorter man in his arms and takes him to the bed, where he laid fucked out of his mind. Ranpo pulls up his pants and reaches out for his computer, starting a group call with his friends stuck at the agency.

"Hey guys!" Ranpo calls, hiding Chuuya's face from view for a second.

"Ranpo! Where are you? Why aren't you at work? We're finishing up in here!"

"Sorry, I got kinda distracted. Can you call everyone over? I wanna show them something."

"Alright," Kunikida says before calling the rest of the agents over to huddle at his desk.

"Hey guys!" Ranpo calls again.

"Good evening, Ranpo!"

"Where are you calling from? I don't recognize that background."

"Ranpo-san! I was waiting for you for 2 hours! Don't we have a case?"

"Hello, Mister Ranpo! Why do you look so tired? You're all sweaty!"

"Ranpo-san, are you okay?"

His friends are all wondering where he is and what's been taking him so long to get back. They each have their own questions for him.

"Sorry, guys, I got a little side-tracked." He says with a smile and a shrug.

"But, I just wanted to pass along a message. Actually, I think it's best if you heard it from the man himself!" Ranpo pulls Chuuya into view, of course only showing his upper torso and above. He displayed Chuuya's fucked-out face to the agency, cum still dripping from his chin and cheeks.

"Tada!"

"WHAT THE-"

"RANPO WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"

"Woah woah woah wait! Is that--Chuuya Nakahara from the Port Mafia?! I thought he was dating Dazai!"

"R-Ranpo?? What is this?!"

"Ooh you're hanging out with that gravity manipulator? Cool! I didn't know city folk had so many connections!"

Ranpo's green eyes shined as he smirked.

"Go ahead, Dear, tell them what you want them to know."

"I..." Chuuya started, still fucked out beyond repair, trying to make up an actual sentence.

"I got fucked. Ranpo fucked me." He said.

"And...?"

"And it's the best f-fucking fuck I ever had!" He slurred like a drunkard.

"Even better than Dazai?"

"WAY better," He answered submissively.

"Hear that, Dazai?" Ranpo called out to the only one who didn't respond. "He says I fucked him better. Guess we know now who he prefers." Ranpo made a teasing remark as well as a cruel, childish hand gesture.

"Well, gotta go! See you guys tomorrow!" And with that, the call ended. Leaving the rest of the agency in shock and a blur.

"....did he just??"

Meanwhile, Ranpo turned his laptop off and started removing his boyfriend's vest, giving him the wrong idea.

"H-huh-?"

"No, no, don't worry, we're done for tonight." Ranpo reassured, letting Chuuya rest his head on the silk pillows. "You did great today. And what did we learn?"

"You...you're the best....at fucking me...Ranpo..."

"Even better than.....?"

"Even...b-better than Dazai...." He slurred in his speech.

"Good." The detective removed his own cape and vest, hung his hat on the headrest of the bed, and laid down next to the already sleeping ginger.

The two were at peace for the rest of the night, until the next day when Chuuya found out about the call to the agency. Meanwhile, Dazai was outside, rock hard and kicking the trash cans outside the agency building out of anger.