Fellas, is it gay to hold your Rival's/enemie's/friend's/not-really-any-of-those head tenderly while you both drown?

There are days like today when I miss the time with my sheep.

⊹ ꒰🍷꒱ ˖ watch ur back! — chuuya x fem!reader‎ 𓏲ּ𝄢

cw: sfw, crack, suggestive if u squint

a/n: gsjrjfsrh i love this idea smmm (˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵), enjoy! 𖹭 last div by tsumiinum ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

♡ ｡ﾟ•┈ ୨ 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 ୧ ┈• ｡ﾟ♡

⋆‧𓏲ּ𝄢𓏲ּ ‎your pranks keep him on his toes in the best way. hiding his hat only for him to find it perched on your head while you strike a dramatic pose, swapping his wine with a non-alcoholic version just to watch his expression shift before he haules you into his lap, growling playful threats against your neck. he pretends to be annoyed, but the way his grip lingers and the soft curses laced with affection give him away. life with the mafia ia sharp and dangerous; you make the in between moments feel like something worth coming home to.

⋆‧𓏲ּ𝄢𓏲ּ tickle fights & wrestling matches happen constantly. you’ll pounce on him while he is trying to relax on the couch, fingers digging into his sides or attempting to pin his arms. he'll indulge you for a minute or two, trying not to let out hid laughs while letting you think you have the upper hand, before flipping you effortlessly beneath him. his hat will end up knocked sideways, his coat rumpled, and he'll be laughing that rare, rough laugh while you try (and fail) to escape. the fights always end the same way—his mouth on yours, hands firm on your waist, the playfulness melting into something warmer and more intimate. you love how easily he matches your chaos without ever making you feel silly for it

⋆‧𓏲ּ𝄢𓏲ּ sneaking up on him has become your favorite sport. you'll wait until he's pouring a glass of wine or reviewing reports, then launch yourself at his back with a laugh already bubbling out. he always senses you coming—but he lets you get close anyway, just so he can spin around at the last second, catch you mid jump, and pin you against the nearest surface with that smirk. “nice try, doll,” he'll mutter, voice low, while you squirm and giggled in his hold. you never win those surprise attacks, but losing to him feels like winning anyway.

⋆‧𓏲ּ𝄢𓏲ּ even on rough days, when missions leave him tense and quiet, you never let the mood stay heavy for long. you bounce into his space with that bright, relentless smile, tugging him out for a late night drive or challenging him to some stupid game that ends with both of you breathless and tangled together. he never tells you to tone it down. Instead, he pulls you close afterward, forehead pressed to yours, murmuring how you are the only damn person who can make him forget the blood on his hands for a while.

♡ ｡ﾟ•┈ ୧ 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓫𝓫𝓵𝓮 ୨ ┈• ｡ﾟ♡

you never played fair, and chuuya had learned to expect it.

the second he stepped into the bedroom in nothing but sweatpants and a loose tshirt, you struck. you tackled him from the side like an overexcited linebacker, arms wrapping around his waist as the two of you crashed sideways onto the bed. he let out a surprised grunt, half laughing already because he knew exactly what was coming.

“the fuck- get off me, you menace-”

too late. you were already wrestling for position, legs tangling with his as you tried to pin him down. chuuya flipped you effortlessly, but you hooked an arm around his neck and dragged him with you, both of you rolling in a mess of limbs and laughter. his shirt rode up—perfect target.

“think you can relax, huh?” you teased, fingers already digging into his sides as you wrestled to stay on top.

“fuck-” chuuya let out out a loud, undignified laugh and bucked hard, nearly throwing you off the bed entirely. he grabbed your waist to steady himself and immediately regretted it—you used the grip against him, digging in right where his sides dipped. giggles burst out of you at the way his face twisted, trying so hard to stay composed while losing the battle.

he retaliated fast. one strong arm locked around your middle, pulling you flush against him as he rolled on top. the wrestling turned into pure chaos. you were squirming and kicking, him pinning one of your thighs with his knee while his free hand went straight for your worst spots.

you shrieked with laughter, head thrown back against the pillows. “chuuya- no no no-!”

“yes,” he shot back, grinning like a shark even as his own laughter kept breaking through while he hovered over you, hat long gone, red hair messy, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. he leaned down mid tickle and pressed a quick, messy kiss to your open mouth, swallowing one of your giggles. the kiss was clumsy, teeth clicking because neither of you could stop laughing. he pulled back just enough to nip at your jaw, then attacked your neck with tickling fingers again.

you wheezed, tears threatening to spill, and tried to twist away. your hands shoved at his chest, then immediately snuck back under his shirt to tickle him right back. chuuya’s shoulders shook with suppressed giggles as he caught your wrists, but you kept wriggling, hips bumping, legs kicking.

another kiss—deeper this time, slower, right as your giggles started to die down. his tongue brushed yours, tasting the bright, breathless joy still bubbling out of you. then he smirked and went right back to tickling your sides.

“asshole!” you gasped into his mouth between peals of laughter, trying to curl into a ball. he wouldn’t let you, body draped heavy and warm over yours, one hand still loosely pinning your wrists while the other tortured you with light, maddening scratches.

eventually you tapped out against his chest, gasping for air. he finally relented, collapsing beside you and pulling you half on top of him. his chest heaved with leftover chuckles as he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the top of your head, fingers now gently tracing your back instead of attacking it.

“you’re ridiculous, woman” he muttered, voice warm with fondness.

you just grinned against his collarbone, still catching your breath. “you love it.”

“yeah, sweetheart” he admitted, voice rough with laughter and something sweeter. “i really fucking do.”

♡𐙚ּ ֶָ֢.

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