ꢾ꣒ ¡ 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 : 3rd. broadcast ❞
pairing 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐧. & fem!reader !
c.w ⠀ⵗ⠀ mdni !! explicit sexual content , porn with little plot , cunnilingus , face sitting , free use , soft dom!chuuya , service top , overstimulation , dirty talk , praise kink , coming untouched , ribbons , overstimulation , multiple orgasms.
ᰋ. 𝐬𝒖𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : ᰍ chuuya doesn’t know what to give you for Christmas, so he takes dazai’s teasing advice and decides to wrap himself up in ribbons to be your pressent.
Okay, picture this… Chuuya in his office, searching desperately through websites on his computer for the perfect Christmas gift, and next to him, a giant pile of paperwork that he’s letting pile up because his darling’s present was more important than some shitty reports Mori wanted him to do.
Later he’ll scold himself for being like Dazai. ew! But that’ll be a problem for the Chuuya of the future. Right now, what matters is you.
He’s spent his whole morning and noon scrolling through luxury clothing sites, designer bags, custom perfumes—everything that screamed “expensive” and “high category.” But nothing felt right. A necklace? Too basic. A handbag? You already have a collection he’s proudly contributed to. Perfume? He loves the way you smell naturally, and the idea of changing that sweet scent makes him irrationally grumpy.
So, by late afternoon —after he’s visited literally every website in google, even in the dark web— he’s slamming his laptop shut with a curse, grabbing his coat and hat to go outside and chase the fucking present if necessary. Screw online shopping—he’ll hit the streets of Yokohama himself.
It’s Christmas Eve and the city is buzzing with last-minute shoppers like him. Fairy lights twinkling everywhere like a saturated explosion of color and brightness that make everyone’s eyes wayer, and Chuuya —executive of the fucking Port Mafia, master of gravity— was reduced to a panicked mess weaving through crowds like an anxious chihuahua.
His first stop was the high-end jewelry district. He stared at diamond earrings and bracelets that cost more than most people’s yearly salary, but they didn’t sparkle like your eyes do when you laugh at his terrible jokes, so they’re a big no.
Next is a boutique for rare wines. He knows your favorite vintage, but a bottle feels... too Chuuya-coded and not you—coded. You deserve something that screamed how much he adored you—not a gift that could easily have served as an excuse to buy himself more alcohol. So, with a heavy heart, he left the store empty-handed.
Shop after shop, nothing clicked. His mood soured with every “Sorry, sir, we don’t have what you need.” Snow had started falling lightly, sticking to his orange hair, and he has been muttering threats under his breath about blowing up the entire shopping district if he didn’t find something perfect for you. He can’t show up empty-handed tonight. Not to you. Not on Christmas.
In a last-ditch effort, he storms into the most luxurious gift shop in the city—a place that sells everything, from artisanal chocolates to custom-engraved crystals. The bell rang as he entered the quite colorful place.
And boy, is there everything. Fate seems to be smiling on him.
Oh, but of course, as soon as he turned the corner his luck ran out.
Fate hated him.
Lounging against a display of overpriced candles is Dazai, the fucking bandaged freak bastard, —extraordinaire, magnifique! just what he needed— holding a garish Santa hat with the stupidest smile of the world.
“Chibi~!” Dazai sing-sang.
Of fucking course. Of all the people in this entire goddamn city, it has to be this suicidal, bandage-wasting, crab-walking, tall-as-a-fucking-flagpole-yet-useless-as-hell, manipulative, smug, lazy, waste of perfectly good oxygen, mackerel, womanizer, dramatic, fake-smiling, “woe-is-me” spouting, dog-killing, book-ruining, coat-flaunting, bastard, motherfucker always-one-step-ahead-but-still-a-complete-idiot, human-shaped disaster, walking migraine, Port Mafia traitor piece of shit—here.
Chuuya’s eye twitches so hard he’s pretty sure the gravity around him flickered for a fleeting moment. He swears that if Dazai says one more syllable in that mocking tone, he’s going to launch him through the roof and let him land in the damn harbor with the rest of the trash, right where he belongs.
“Fancy seeing you here.” Dazai continued, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let me guess, you still haven’t found a gift for your girlfriend? How predictable. Poor her, she will probably dump you for someone taller.”
Chuuya’s jaw clenches in exasperation. “Fuck off, Dazai. I’m not in the mood.”
Dazai circles him slowly, grinning like a cat. “Someone’s stressed. Face all red, pathetic frown—adorable. What’s the budget this year, chibi? Another overpriced watch she’ll never wear? Or are you finally admitting you have no imagination?”
“I swear to god, if you don’t shut up—!”
“Relax, relax.” Dazai held up his hands in mock surrender, somewhat calming the bubbling fury of his former partner. “You’re thinking too hard. Women don’t want more stuff. They want something personal. Intimate.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. “Why not wrap yourself up like a present? Big red bow, nothing else. Wait for her in bed. Trust me, she’ll forget every other gift she’s ever gotten.”
And then he smiled smugly—as if he had just found the damn cure for a terminal illness.
Chuuya froze, turning all kinds of red shades. “You’re a fucking perv.”
Dazai laughs, loud and bright. “C’mon, Chuuya! You can’t deny it’s genius. Picture it: the great Chuuya Nakahara, Port Mafia executive, naked and ribboned up like a holiday treat. She’ll lose her mind.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Chuuya snarled, shoving past him hard enough to rattle shelves and storming out into the snow without saying another word; Dazai’s mocking tone followed him all the way back. But the idea stuck in his mind. It burrowed. And by the time he’s home, setting up candles and scattering petals like a lovesick idiot, he knows he’s doing it—reluctantly, but doing it.
You pushed open the door to your shared penthouse apartment, kicking off your snow-dusted boots and shaking flakes from your hair. Your cheeks were slightly pink from the cold outside, and your hands, despite being covered by the warm gloves Chuuya gave you, were cold and stiff.
The place was dimly lit, warm golden light spilling from the bedroom down the hall. Soft jazz played in the background—Chuuya’s favorite playlist for Christmas. “Chuuya? Babe, I’m home!” you called, hanging up your coat, but there was no answer.
Weird.
You wandered through the living room, looking for traces of your boyfriend’s whereabouts, but everything you found was nothing, just the fireplace crackling merrily and stockings hung—one cute and adorable for you, one ridiculously fancy for him.
There was a massive Christmas tree twinkling in the corner, decorated with ornaments you both picked out together, but still no sign of him. “Chuuya?” You headed toward the bedroom, following the trail of rose petals down the hall and pushing the door open.
And then you stopped dead on your tracks.
The room was completely transformed. Candles flickering everywhere, casting warm shadows over petals scattered across the floor, leading to the king-sized bed in the center of the room. Fairy lights were strung along the headboard, and the air smelled like cinnamon and his cologne.
And there, in the center of the bed… Chuuya.
He was kneeling in the soft mattress, gloriously naked except for deep red satin ribbons wrapped artfully around his body. One looped around his toned chest like a harness, crossing over his pecs and tying in a perfect bow right over his sternum. Another winded low around his hips, barely concealing his half-hard cock as the ribbon ends trailed teasingly down his thighs. His orange hair was loose, framing his sharp features, cheeks flushed a deep pink as he met your wide-eyed stare.
“Merry Christmas, doll,” he said, flushing to the tips of his ears.
And before you could help it, a laugh bubbled out—soft, delighted, incredulous, quickly escalating to full-blown laughter not many seconds after. “Oh— Oh my god… C-Chuuya—!”
Your boyfriend’s face fell instantly, brows furrowing together as his shoulders tensed. “If you’re gonna mock me, then I’ll just—”
“No—no!” You hurried forward, still giggling, reaching for his face. “Chuuya, baby, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just—” Another laugh escapes. “I can’t believe you did this. You. Chuuya Nakahara. One of the most dangerous men in Yokohama. Wrapped in ribbons, just for me.”
His flush deepened as soon as your words registered in his brain, quickly looking away with embarrassment, muttering, “Tch. Forget it. Stupid idea anyway—”
“No!” you climbed onto the bed, throwing your arms at him and wrapping them tightly around his shoulders. “Hey. I’m serious. I’m not making fun of you. You just caught me completely off guard in the best way, I swear. This is… god, it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
His expression softened for a fraction, voice dropping a few octaves until it came out almost shy. “So… did you… like it?”
“Oh, baby…” You leaned in and kissed him—slow, tender, pouring every ounce of affection into it. “I loved it.” you whispered against his lips. “Best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
He exhaled shakily, some of the tension finally leaving his body thanks to your words. But then you pulled back, curious with the idea of… well, this. “how did you even come up with this?”
Chuuya’s face turned into a grimace, looking like he’d rather fight a dragon than have this conversation with you. “Dazai.”
You cuckled again, softer this time. “Right. Dazai.”
“Just forget it, alright?” he grumbled, but there was a tiny, reluctant smile tugging at his mouth. “okay!” You answered, unintentionally lowering your gaze and meeting the sight of his hard, flushed cock. You bit your lip, feeling your cheeks warm now too.
“Can I unwrap my present?” you said, and that cocky grin returned as soon as your lips pronounced those words—sharp, smug, all Chuuya.
“Thought you’d never ask, doll.”
He didn’t give you time to breathe before he was all over you, kissing you filthy and deep, tongue fucking into your mouth so he could give you all of him. His leather-gloved hands stripped you with impatient precision, shirt yanked over your head, pants dragged down your legs, bra tossed aside in a frenzy, until you were bare and exposed under him.
Every inch of skin that was exposed was attacked by his mouth—hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down your throat, teeth scraping over your collarbone, leaving small love bites on your body, tongue laving at your nipples until they were peaked and aching.
“Such a pretty fucking girl for me to ruin,” he growled against your skin, voice low and dangerous, dripping with that sensual accent that made you squirm in his hands. His words were kinda harsh, but the way his hands stroke your sides so reverently made you feel worshiped. “This is all for you, darling. I’m your gift tonight. You want something, you take it. You want to use me, you fucking use me. Understood?”
You nodded breathless, and he rewarded you with a slow, approving smirk. “Good girl.” He leaned back on the pillows, stacking a couple behind his head so he’s half-reclined and comfy in this position. His blue eyes locked onto yours, dark and heavy. “Get up here,” he ordered, voice rough with hunger. “Sit on my face, baby.”
His rather bold order made your cheeks burn in embarrassmen—it was your turn to feel like this— and a flicker of hesitation crossed through your eyes as you kneeled up in bed. “Chuuya, I-I I’m not sure… what if I hurt you—?”
Your question made him roll his eyes, a soft scoff escaping him. “hurt me? Darling, I’m a mafioso, I’ve taken more bullets than I can count. You think your pretty little ass is gonna do shit to me?” His gloved hands shoot up, gripping your hips firmly—no room for argument. “I want your pussy on my mouth. Stop thinking and sit.”
Before you can protest again, he yanked you forward with effortless strength, making you yelp. He guided you up his body until you were straddling his chest, and once you were there, he tugged one last time and positioned you exactly where he wanted you—knees on either side of his head, your dripping core hovering just above his lips. “Perfect,” he murmured, breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, making you shiver.
His hands locked on your hips, stroking soothingly your hip bones even as his grip said you weren’t going anywhere. “Now sit all the way down, princess. I want to taste every drop.” You lowered yourself slowly, still a little nervous, but the second your weight settled fully on him he groaned like a man in heaven—deep, filthy, vibrating straight through your clit. His tongue was on you instantly, licking up your folds with greedy, desperate strokes, pulling you down harder like he couldn’t get close enough. “That’s it,” he growled between licks, voice muffled and wrecked. “Ride my tongue. Take what you need, baby.”
You let out a chorus of moans and whimpers, beginning to rock your hips in his face, over and over again. Fuck, his tongue was so deep inside your tight heat that you couldn’t help but bounce on it a little, wanting and needing him to reach more deeper spots in your insides.
He tongue fucked you deep and merciless, curling and thrusting the pink muscle before pulling out to suck your clit hard enough to make you see stars. He alternated between slow, teasing laps, and fast, relentless flicks until your legs shook. Every time you got close, he pulled back just enough to keep you on the edge, only to plunge back in harder.
“Chuuya—please—” you whined, placing your hands on his chest for stability.
“Please what, princess?” he asked, voice muffled against your coated pussy lips, chin shiny and wet with your slick. “Want to come on my tongue?”
“Y-yes—!”
“Then fucking do it.” and then, without waiting for an answer, his strong hands grip your ass, guiding you, encouraging you to grind harder, faster. You braced your hands on the headboard, rolling your hips, riding his face exactly how you wanted.
“Just like that,” he growled between licks, voice muffled and wrecked. “You’re doing it fucking great, baby.”
His words helped you lose yourself in it—grinding down, circling your hips, chasing the pressure of his tongue on your clit. He never stopped, not even a second, licking, sucking, moaning into you like he’s the one having the oral. You feel him rutting against nothing, hips bucking helplessly, a fat drop of precum sliding down his lengt.
Your first orgasm hit hard and sudden, pleasure ripping through you as you grind down, crying out his name. Chuuya didn’t let you rest, nuh-huh; on the contrary, he licked you through it, tongue slowing down but never stopping, drawing it out until you were trembling and whimpering for the overstimulation.
But he’s not satisfied, at least not yet.
“Another, princess. Gimme another.” he demanded the second you caught your breath, hands pulling you back down when you tried to lift off. “I’m spoiling you tonight. You’re coming on my face until you can’t fucking think.”
And then, without warning, he focused entirely on your clit now—fast, tight circles with the tip of his tongue, then sucking hard, then flicking side to side, teasing the abused bundle over and over. His hands knead your ass, spreading you wider, letting you feel completely exposed and owned and cherished all at once.
You’re a sobbing mess now, thighs shaking around his head, begging him to stop because you're so fucking sensitive, and still he doesn’t. The second orgasm built faster but deeper, coiling tight in your belly. You didn’t think you could come a second time so soon, but then you found yourself riding him harder, chasing it desperately, and when it finally broke you screamed, —literally—, grinding down so hard you were scared you'dhurt him, but Chuuya just moaned and groaned in ecstasy.
If only you knew—what wouldn’t he do just to have such a sexy death? With his face being suffocated by his girlfriend’s sweet pussy.
You felt him tense beneath you, hips jerking hard—and then, before you could fully register what was happening, he came untouched. A muffled, broken groan vibrating against your clit as he spilled in his abs and thighs. The knowledge that he just came from eating you out alone sent a fresh wave of heat through you, dragging your orgasm out even longer.
Only when you were limp and oversensitive did he finally ease you off him, guiding you down to lie against his chest. His face was flushed, lips swollen and glistening, hair a mess from your hands. He looked utterly wrecked and utterly proud. “Fuck, that was…” he breathed, voice hoarse. “You taste like heaven. That’s all I can say.”
You, on the other hand, were completely wrecked, eyelids heavy and pupils blown, looking completely fucked out in the best possible way.
He kissed you slowly and deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, his hands stroked your back soothingly even as his cock—still hard, still leaking—pressed hot against your thigh. You whimpered into his mouth, shifting against him, and he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, that cocky edge sharpened again.
“Ready for more?” he asked, low and dangerous, one hand sliding down to cup your ass possessively. “Because I’m nowhere near done spoiling you.”
He rolled you beneath him in one smooth motion, settling between your thighs, dragging his cock through your slick folds. His eyes never left yours—intense, hungry, greedy.
“Let’s get into the real fun now, baby. You won’t leave this bed until you can’t even sit up properly.” He aligned his thick cock with your entrance, and with a powerful thrust, he slid all the way inside you, making you scream.
♥︎ ⊹ ˖ notes : divider made by ﹫cursed-carmine. finally wrote sth for sweet chuu. 😭 though i think it’s kinda occ (?). idk, i haven’t watched bsd in a while since season 5 came out. 😭
© written by ﹫ 𝐯𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞 !
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