#dazai catches him every time this happens

[sensitiveheartless]

#kind of love the idea of Chuuya using his ability to maintain balance during every day activities #so he gets marginally clumsier when dazai is attached to him #also canon has convinced me that their first instinct is to protect each other so #dazai catches him every time this happens #I could go on a whole rant about that lol #anyway this was supposed to be one drawing of them walking around together in the cold and then it turned into this lol #the domestic misadventures of soukoku #I’m just gonna use that tag for all my ‘they’re already in an established relationship’ comics #my art #bsd #soukoku #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 FIRST LIGHT

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai severely overestimated his self-control. it takes approximately six days and thirteen hours for him to break, seeking you out again. when he does, he knows that nothing will ever be the same. {wordcount: 14.5k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART TWOOOOOOO, we have one of my fav parallels in this one, i know you guys will catch it immediately but u still must tell me when you do. also, there's another hint about badlands!reader & dazai's relationship in this chapter that happened after the events of the last installment so u must let me know if you catch that too. reblogs are always appreciated! thank you guys & i hope you guys love this as much as i enjoyed writing it

GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. + we have a bit more of unhinged thought processes on dazai's end. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings!

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

He understands now the temptation that Eve must have felt in the Garden of Eden with the forbidden fruit dangling right in front of her face. Traditional interpretation of the Bible places the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden on day six of creation; Dazai’s restraint has thus far rivaled that of the two Biblical figures. He’s on day six now, in fact; it’s been exactly six days, twelve hours and forty six minutes since he met you in the hallway of the club and each passing second has been more agonizing than the last. 

He isn’t sure how much longer he’s going to last. 

His office is dark and suffocating, the atmosphere so cold and unwelcoming that it has him craving the return to your warm and homely apartment so intensely that he thinks it might be making him sick. He turned off the light earlier when he felt a migraine coming on, hoping that the darkness would let his eyes and mind rest enough to catch it before it fully came on, but he’s realized that it probably wasn’t the light causing his headache, rather it was you.

He sighs as he tilts his head back, willing the migraine to go away even though he knows it's to no avail. But he can’t even rest his eyes in peace, because every time they slide shut, the image of you burns the inside of his eyelids—your soft gaze and bright smile, the way you held your hand out to take his and the way your lashes fluttered as you leaned into his touch. 

Six days, twelve hours and forty seven minutes. 

He thinks he would prefer the nightmares of his other lives to this. At least with those, they fuel his drive to press forward with his master plan, the reminder of your fates in the other worlds would scorch away any desire to seek you out in fear of bringing it upon you again in this one.

Now, every night for the past six days he’s been plagued with dreams of you—pleasant dreams. Dreams that when he wakes from them, he finds his cheeks wet and his chest heavy with such an intense longing for you that it makes him physically ill. He dreams of having you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as you do your best to study even with him making every effort to distract you. He dreams of watching sunrises with you, seeing the way the early morning colors wash over your face, your skin glowing and eyes glittering in such a vivid way that Dazai swears he can even picture it now. He dreams of a ring, and he dreams of his palms sweating as he walks with you down to the beach you met on to watch another sunrise, and he dreams of getting down on one knee in front of you just as the sun breaks over the horizon. He never dreams of a wedding, so Dazai theorizes that you never made it long enough for one to take place. 

And the realization of that alone should be enough to make the yearning for you evaporate but it’s not, because dangerous thoughts have been circulating through his head since the night he left you. Thoughts of how maybe this could be different. Dazai is the boss of the Port Mafia in this life, he has enough resources to protect you—more money than god and enough armed forces behind him to rival the nation’s government. He has the power to keep you safe in this life, more than he ever had in any other. 

If there was any life that he could be with you and ensure your safety, it’s this one. 

Six days, twelve hours and forty nine minutes.

Does he really want to give this up?

Dazai rests his arms on his desk, lowering his head down, eyes sliding shut again. He can see you again, the image of you from last week, laughing wildly at something he’d said—he can’t even remember what it was, he was so nervous that he can’t even recall half of the night, but he doesn’t really care at all what he said anyway, too enraptured by the way you react to it. 

He wonders if you’re there now. At the bar. Because what he does remember, of course, is your teasing grin as you tell him that of course, you’re scheming out a second meeting between the two of you because naturally you’ve decided that you already like him. And he remembers the hope thinly veiled behind your eyes, as you look over him, knowing that if the two of you are to meet again, it would be reliant on whether or not he decides to come back to the club, because you’ve already made your intentions clear.

Six days, twelve hours and fifty minutes.

Dazai’s throat feels swollen, his nails dig into his palms. He imagines you waiting there, he imagines the disappointment on your face as you slowly realize he’s not going to show up. And you’re so damn beautiful, radiant even beneath the shitty lighting of the club—he’s sure you saved a seat at the bar for him, and you’ve probably had dozens of interested men who’ve offered to buy you drinks, asking if you’d come to the club alone. And you’ll probably turn them down at first, telling them that you’re waiting on someone, but he wonders how long it’ll take for you to finally take one of them up on their offer after you’ve realized that Dazai isn’t going to show. He wonders if you’ll follow them out to the dance floor, he wonders if you’ll give them the same teasing smile you gave him. He can picture slim fingers caressing your hips, pulling you closer. He can picture your lashes fluttering as they lean their head down to ghost their lips against your neck, swaying to the music. He doesn’t want to picture anything else, but his mind, as always, betrays him. 

He wonders if you’ll take them back to your apartment—would you get right into it or would you sit and talk with them for a while? His head spins as his thoughts take an increasingly more dangerous spiral. It’s a bitter cold night out, maybe you’ll take the opportunity to make them the hot chocolate you’ve made him hundreds of times, thousands of times before—no, he corrects as the lines start to blur in a treacherous way, you’ve never made it for him in this life. Maybe it’s so cold out that you’d forgo small talk altogether, instead seeking out the warmth of someone else’s body—you’d take them by the hand, lead them into your bedroom and lay them back on your bed. 

Would you be gentle with them? Like you were with him? No, he reminds himself again, you’ve never been with him like that, not in this life. The pages of the Book pile around him, memories flooding him with an intensity that he’s never experienced before; he can hardly even remember what his reality is, all of the others blending and shifting together in his mind, making it impossible to decipher the lines between them. 

You’re dragging him to the beach to watch your first sunrise with him and you’re telling him that you want to see as many as possible with him—he wants to tell you that he thinks he might love you but he doesn’t know how to say it  You’re laying him back against a bed, asking him if he trusts you—of course, he does, how is that even a question? You’re leaning your head against his arm, standing before a familiar grave and accepting him for all that he is even after he strips bare down to all of the worst parts of himself for you—you shouldn’t, he wants to say desperately, but instead he’s telling you that he loves you, even though he knows it might kill you. And then-

And then he’s ripped violently from his fall into the pages of the Book as his phone vibrates and it’s not him anymore, it’s someone else, someone unworthy and undeserving, a stranger that you’d turned to because Dazai wasn’t there.

Dazai nearly heaves. He never should have indulged in you that night. He should have known he was never going to go back to normal after it. The difference between the memories and actually having seen you and heard you and touched you and smelt you was so much more severe than he ever could have expected. Now, the memories aren’t enough; he wants a life with you, he wants it to be his reality. He thinks that it’s not fair that he’s the only one who can’t be with you. He wants to make new memories with you so he no longer has to struggle with the blurred lines, so he doesn’t have to yearn for a life that he’ll never be able to experience, having to watch every single other Dazai get to have what he can’t.

Six days, twelve hours and fifty eight minutes.

He can do it, his thoughts are a bit manic as he tries to ground himself after the spiral. He has the knowledge. He has the power. He has the resources. If there’s any life that he’s able to be with you and keep you safe, it’s this one. He doesn’t have to hide from you, he doesn’t have to deny himself of you to protect you—he has the knowledge, he has the power, he has the resources. He can keep you safe. Instead of being the only Dazai who never gets to be with you, he’ll be the only Dazai who can actually spend his life with you—a long one, a happy one. He’ll have what none of them did. He can do it.  

Before he can stop himself, he speaks.

“Gin-chan,” Dazai calls softly, knowing that he doesn’t have to speak any louder for the girl to hear him. As soon as he hears the door to the backroom open, he continues with, “Have Albatross be ready downstairs with one of the cars.” 

“Of course. Where to, sir?” 

To Gin’s credit, she doesn’t sound at all caught off guard by Dazai’s sudden request, as if it’s normal for Dazai to randomly decide to leave the Port Mafia base even though he can count on one hand the number of times he’s left the base since he ascended to the position of boss four years earlier. 

“... The club we own in Naka,” Dazai says after a few moments, fingers thrumming against the mahogany of his desk for a moment before he adds, “... Don’t tell Chuuya.”

“... Yes, sir. I’ll have Albatross get everything ready immediately.”

At exactly six days and thirteen hours, Dazai’s self-control shatters. 

You sigh. 

The seat next to you remains damningly empty despite the many attempts of handsome strangers trying to join you at the bar. You’re sure you must’ve turned down half a dozen by now in hopes that the stranger from last Friday will end up showing up but those hopes are very quickly disappearing. You want to convince yourself that maybe you’ve just missed him—it’s a rather large club, after all—but it’s not half as packed as it was last week; you think that if he were here, you would’ve spotted him by now. Or he would have spotted you.  

Dazai Osamu, you remember his name, eyes sliding shut briefly as you take a sip of your water, wondering if you should just switch to alcohol and drink your sorrows away, seek out one of the men who’d approached you already so you don’t end up spending the night alone. The thought leaves you unsatisfied, a pout rising to your lips around the rim of your glass as you finish off yet another glass of water. 

You swear that you’re not usually this pathetic—especially not over a man—but there’s just something about this Dazai Osamu that has you acting up. Like honestly, who even are you? Going to the club alone on a Friday night with nothing but some faint hopes that the man you’d met here last week would show up too? It’s so embarrassing, you think you might die—but somehow you’re not embarrassed enough to leave because you’re still hoping that he shows up. 

God, you think again, who are you anymore? You barely even know this man. You know his name and you know he’s handsome. And that’s just about it, but here you are, sitting bummed at a club because he isn’t showing even though he has absolutely no reason to. 

The bartender raises his eyebrows with a small smile and you pass the glass over to him, letting him refill it. He’s the same one from last week and he recognized you as soon as you took a seat at the bar, making sure to get you what you need and keep you company whenever there’s a lull in patrons flagging him down. It’s a stark contrast from the treatment that you got early in the night last week, where it had taken you twenty minutes to get a single drink and even then you could barely hold his attention long enough to tell him what you wanted. You can’t help but notice that he seems hyperaware of the open seat next to you.

As the bartender passes you another glass of water, you flash him a wavering smile, unconsciously sparing another awkward glance to the empty seat next to you. While the club isn’t quite as packed as it was last week, it’s not exactly empty and you’re starting to feel bad hoarding the seat when plenty of others probably want to sit down too. 

“I’m sure he’ll show,” the bartender tells you before he’s waved down by another patron. You wonder if he’s guessed who you’re waiting for or if it’s just meant to be some general comfort. “Probably just running late, he’s a busy man.”

Oh, you think, eyes widening, but before you can question him as to what he means, he’s rushing to go refill the drink of a blonde man on the opposite end of the bar.

A busy man. 

Who are you, Dazai Osamu? 

Even in your drunken state, you knew from the moment you met him that there was something off about him. The way he held himself, the way he looked at you, the way people treated him—it all screamed danger. Once you’d sobered up, you remembered all of the things you didn’t notice while you’d been intoxicated. You remembered the way people would rush to get out of his way or show him complete deference, eyes a bit wide and faces a bit pale. You remembered the way Takeda looked sick and scared when Dazai told him to go, and Takeda is usually a bull-headed and fearless man, it takes a lot to make him back down. You remembered his driver—he had a driver!—and how when he stepped out of the car to open the door for the two of you, you swore you caught a glint of gunmetal holstered at his waist before Dazai gave him a cold look and he quickly covered it up.

And you’re not usually a girl who seeks danger out, for as much as you went on your spiel about living life on the edge the last time you spoke to him, you’re usually a pretty careful person. If you were smart, you would have woken up the next morning and pretended that you were too drunk to remember the night before, forget all about Dazai Osamu and his dangerous smile and intense gaze. 

But you aren’t smart, evidently, because instead of forgetting about him, you spent half of the next day mourning because he didn’t even leave you his number and the other half of it scheming out the best way of running into him again. 

You sigh, resting your cheek on your hand as you prop your elbow up on the bartop, idly tracing the rim of your glass.

What is it about you, Dazai?

One meeting and you’re captivated. He must be some kind of witch, or siren, there’s no other explanation for how you’re so utterly enchanted by him. He spoke your name with the familiarity of a lover, watching you with gentle eyes even though they become cold and empty whenever they avert to someone other than you. And you—you felt as if you’ve known him your entire life. You’ve never had such an instant connection with someone like that before, you’re convinced that it’s fate at work, even if he’s adamant against the thought.

You want to see him again. You wonder if it was maybe just your drunken brain misconstruing things, although somehow you doubt it. You need to talk to him again to know if the connection is real, and if it’s real-

“Is this seat taken?”

At first, the voice doesn’t register as familiar, so you let out a soft puff of air, trying to figure out if you should deny another person. But as you turn to face the newcomer, your eyes widen a bit as you catch sight of the long, burgundy scarf hanging in your peripheral, stark against a long, sleek black suit jacket.

Your lips part in shock, head snapping to the side so you can fully look at the person to your left. Dazai Osamu stands there, hands resting comfortably in the pockets of his jacket, head tilted to the side, a small smile curving at his lips and a soft look in his eye as he looks down at you, comforting and warm compared to the cold emptiness you vaguely noticed from him at certain points last night.

You try to say no, it’s not taken, but no words leave your lips, so instead, you shake your head, eyes following Dazai as he takes a seat next to you at the bar. The bartender rushes over, all but abandoning the couple he’d been helping on the opposite side of the bar, pouring Dazai an expensive glass of whiskey and giving him a nod before going back to who he’d been helping before. Your eyes follow the man curiously before you turn your gaze back to Dazai, not speaking for a moment as you observe the way he stares down at the glass of whiskey for a second, the warmth in his eye slowly dissipating.

You don’t like it, and not because it makes you uncomfortable or anything, but rather because you just don’t like how alone he seems. So, you lean forward, smiling, and say, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Dazai turns his gaze back to you and the warmth returns, pools of honey rather than the endless void. You melt beneath it. 

“I vaguely remember a beautiful woman mentioning scheming out a second meeting,” Dazai drawls, dark eye lidded as he looks down at you, a half-smile decorating his face. “It would be quite remiss of me to be the cause of her failure.”

Your cheeks feel a bit a hot as you grin down at your drink. “While we’re on the topic of things I may or may not have said last week, I have to be honest with you. I totally lied about something,” you say with a laugh, leaning on the bar. He raises his eyebrow curiously. You give him a sheepish smile as you continue with, “I have absolutely no idea how to charm someone, drunk or sober, I was entirely speaking out of my ass, so keep your expectations low.”

The smile that curls to the corner of his lips is soft enough to make your heart skip a beat. “I think you just being yourself is plenty charming,” he murmurs.

You let out a noise caught between a groan and a whimper, face going hot. “Oh my god, you’re the charmer,” you accuse loudly, burying your face in your arms. “I’ll never survive. Handsome and charming, a deadly combination.”

As you peer your eyes open to look at him, you can’t help but notice the way his smile briefly falters at your words. You promptly decide to change the subject with: “Thank you for making sure I got home safely last week.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that,” he says, one pale, lithe finger tracing along the rim of his glass. Your eyes linger for a moment on the digit, mind wandering, before you force your gaze up; you can see the bandages peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his dark coat as your eyes drag his arm back to his face. There’s a knowing expression on his face, the smile on his lips a bit more sensual. Your breath catches as you avert your gaze, feeling quite like you’ve just been caught doing something bad.

“Sure I do,” you try to make the words sound casual and easy but despite your most sincere attempts, your voice is strained. “Not many people would go out of their way like that for someone they just met.”

Something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. You’re not sure what he finds amusing, but you decide you don’t care because you very much prefer it to the distant look that had been painted in them before.

“An unfortunate world we live in, then,” he says softly, but there’s a lilt to his tone that makes you feel like he knows something that you don’t. He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it though as he asks, “Are you going to have anything to drink?”

You startle slightly at the question, glancing down at the glass of water you’re drinking before you tell him with a laugh, “I don’t know if I want to force you to deal with me drunk twice. Didn’t I promise I’d stay sober this time?”

“If I remember correctly, you only said ‘not quite as drunk,’” he says, lips tilting up a bit and god, the way he’s looking at you has you flustered, gaze lidded and intense, as if you’re the only one in the room and not in a club with hundreds of other people. “Let me order you something, I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh, that’s bold,” you warn, tossing him a teasing smile. “I'm very particular about my drinks, I’ll have you know. I’m almost curious what you have in mind that makes you so confident.”

“I have a good feeling about it,” Dazai says, tilting his head to the side as he waits for your decision.

You give a heavy sigh, pretending like it’s a difficult decision even though you know it’s not. “Fine, but only if you promise to cut me off after two. Whenever I hit three, I hit the floor.”

You extend your pinky toward him, waiting for him to take it, and when he does, you swear a jolt of electricity shoots up your arm. As he wraps his finger around yours, your heart skips a beat, your eyes meet his and you think you might get lost in the dark pools, you don’t think you would mind if you do and that scares you. You’ve never had someone make your heart flutter and mind haze like this, especially not so quickly.

“Promise,” he breathes out, barely audible above the thundering music and crowds. 

You dip your head down to press your lips against your thumb to seal the deal, and you think you fall even more when you don’t have to tell him to do the same, following your lead and kissing his own thumb to seal it. And you briefly wonder if this man might be your soulmate because he didn’t give you a single odd look and didn't hesitate for a second whereas when you’ve made pinky promises with some of your other friends and past partners, their expression always twists a bit in confusion or oddity at the second part.

Rather than letting go of your hand, he swaps to his other hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and resting it on your lap before he flags the bartender down—quite easily, might you add—and leans over the bartop to say something quietly to him. The man nods and rushes off, and you give Dazai a scandalized look as he turns his attention back to you, hyper aware of the warmth of his fingers against yours.

“You won’t even tell me what it is?” you gasp in mock offense. 

Dazai rests his other elbow on the bar top, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you through his lashes. You couldn’t drag your gaze away if you wanted to, tunneled onto him.

“It’s a surprise,” he says with a smile. “You’ll like it, trust me.”

“Quite confident for someone that hardly knows me, aren’t you, Dazai?” you giggle, raising your hand to cover your lips, and god, he looks so amused again, and so handsome. You might die. “That’ll be for me to judge.”

“Very confident,” he agrees, and you think he winks but you can’t tell because one of his eyes is covered by bandages. 

“So,” you begin, waiting for the drink. “You’re from around here then?”

You hope he is, at least, because you’d like to keep seeing him. Something about him is just so intoxicating, like a drug you just can’t get enough of. You think he must be, from the way he seems so familiar with the bartender and other patrons, but you could always be wrong.

You hope you’re not wrong.

“Mhm,” Dazai agrees, humming around the rim of his glass as he takes another sip. You hope the excitement you feel doesn’t flash across your face. “Yokohama born and raised… you?” 

Distantly, a part of you feels like the question is just an afterthought, as though he already knows the answer and you wonder if you’re that obvious, but you pay no mind to that, instead nodding. “Same,” you say, and then, “... I wonder if we have crossed paths before then. You’re so familiar, I can’t imagine that we’ve never met before… Maybe uni? Did you happen to go to UTokyo? I graduated there last year.”

Dazai seems to hesitate at the question, as if considering his answer. You wonder why, but he leaves you little time to figure it out because he finally replies, “No… I was in Tokyo for business for a while a couple years ago though.”

Your eyes light up. “Really?” you ask, leaning forward as you speak. “Where did you work? I know the area pretty well.”

He hesitates again, this time more blatantly, and you can see the confliction that briefly flashes across his face. How curious. 

“It wasn’t a particular storefront, or anything, just my line of work had me in the area for a while.”

You’re about to press into what his line of work is, desperate to know more about the man sitting in front of you, but you’re interrupted by the bartender returning with a martini so stunning that if it tastes half as good as it looks, you might fall in love. 

But you’re not going to make it that easy. 

“Go on,” Dazai says, leaning a bit back in his seat as he watches. He looks at you as if he already knows that you’re going to like it and you’re adamant on destroying his assumptions, you will hate this drink if it’s the last thing you do. “Tell me what you think.”

You lift the martini glass up to your lips carefully, the dark liquid so close to the brim that you’re nervous it will spill over the sides. He watches you expectantly, you pointedly hold his gaze as you take a sip of the drink and-

“Oh my god.”

Dazai looks utterly vindicated, raising his chin as you take a sip of the drink and stare at it in shock. It’s so… tasty. It’s creamy, and sweet, and you can hardly taste the alcohol but you can feel the tingle on your tongue and the light burn in your throat. All thoughts of the conversation you were having before the drink showed up disappear, and you’re focused solely on the glass in your hands and the man before you.

“So?” God, he’s evil. He almost purrs the word, as if he knows exactly what your response is going to be. He leans forward a bit, looking down at you through his lashes. “Give me the verdict, Your Honor.”

“It’s good,” you say, raising your chin in spite, hoping that your expression doesn’t betray but from the way his lips spread into a wider smile, you fear that you completely failed. 

“Just good?” Dazai croons. 

You pause for a second, debating on lying and telling him yes, just good, but the words you intend on speaking do not leave your lips. Rather, you say, “Okay. It may or may not be one of the best drinks I’ve had in a while. You have to tell me what it is so I know what to ask for.”

“Hmm.” Dazai lifts a finger to his chin, as if considering your words. “I don’t think I will.”

“What!”

His smile becomes a bit softer, his expression more teasing. “I think I’ll hold that information hostage, so you have to come out with me again if you want to drink it.”

A jittery feeling spreads through your chest, heart fluttering, cheeks hot. “Oh? Look who’s scheming out our third meeting already,” you taunt lightly. “How the tables turn.”

“Of course, I’m scheming out our third meeting, maybe our fourth and fifth too,” he mimics your words from last week shamelessly. “I’ve decided I already like you, bella.”

The pet name rolls off his tongue easily, as if it’s second nature to him, and your face is on fire but Dazai looks like he’s shocked even at himself. You fumble with your words for just a second, it takes you a moment too long to recover but you think that Dazai doesn’t even notice in his stunned state. 

You decide to return fire. 

“I hope all of our dates aren’t just going to be at clubs,” you tell him with a smile that edges on flirtatious, cocking your head to the left.

Your words hardly register until you notice that his cheeks have become bright and rosy, hand instinctively coming up to hide his face. He looks entirely like he’s at a loss for words, lips parting and closing several times. It’s so endearing that you think you might really die now, but then the gravity of your words hit you like a train.  

Oh god. A date? A date?? This is only the second time you’ve met, that was way too soon. You-

“I’ll make sure the next place we meet is somewhere special,” he finally says, voice smooth and gaze gentle and- 

And just like that, you’re a goner.

You’re not sure how long you sit there talking to him. Hours, probably. It feels like no time at all and forever all at once. You lose yourself in his gaze, and his smile, and you think the whole world could be burning around the two of you and you’d have no idea just because you’re so tunnel visioned on him. The music drowns out, and all you can hear is his voice. The people around you blur out of focus, and all you can see is him. 

It’s insane, you think. You’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You’ve had so many flings and so many boyfriends over the years, but the way your stomach twists and turns and the way your head feels fuzzy with Dazai is so incomparable to how you felt with anyone else. 

You feel like you’ve known him forever. 

You feel like you’ve only just met him. 

How is it possible to feel like you know someone you’ve only just met so intimately? When you know you don’t actually know much about him personally but it still feels like you can read into the depths of his soul?

God, you don’t know, but you do know one thing, and it’s that you never want to lose this feeling. 

And that’s how it began. 

Every Friday for weeks, you find yourself at the club, sipping cheap martinis at the bar until a certain handsome man in a dark suit decides to finally grace you with his presence. Sometimes, the two of you would just sit at the club’s bar until the sun threatens to rise, when you finally go your separate ways and you make your way back to your apartment, falling asleep with a smile on your face and waking up with a giddy feeling still sparkling in your chest. Other times, he only comes by the club to pick you up, fulfilling his promise of making sure to take you somewhere nice when you find yourself fine dining at the fanciest rooftop restaurants in the city. 

He never stays over your place, even when he does drop you off. Sometimes he’ll hang around for an hour (you made him your favorite hot chocolate, he liked it so much that he nearly cried although he vehemently denied that was the reason why his eye got all misty), but he always leaves. You try not to let it bum you out, convincing yourself that it’s just because he doesn’t want to keep his driver waiting (albatross, you remember his name, he’s funny. you like him), but sometimes you can’t help the heavy feeling set over you when he makes his abrupt leave, wishing for just a bit more. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, for god’s sake. 

You also distantly note that you don’t really know much about him, even after all of these weeks his personal life remains a mystery to you. The closest you were able to get to prying anything out of him was when he showed up so late that you were on the verge of leaving because you doubted he would even show, he apologized and said a work meeting ran late. You asked him what about and he hesitated, as if he was about to say it, but then gave you some vague response and steered the conversation to something less personal.

That’s what’s happened every time you try to learn a bit more about him. You don’t really notice it in the moment because he’s smooth and charming about it, but he always manages to turn the conversation to you or some other general topic. You want to respect that he doesn’t want to talk about his personal life because maybe he’s coming to you to have some sort of escape from it, but you also want to know him beyond just the flirting over drinks and the slim things you can gleam from his reactions, words hidden between the lines of what he actually says.

Your friends think you’re crazy. They think he’s bad news. They’ve come with you to the club a few times to wait with you until he shows up and every time they see him you can see the weary looks that they shoot at one another. You don’t care what they think—or well, that’s a lie, you do care what they think, you’re just too enamored with Dazai for their words to have any weight. Which probably should be concerning, but that’s something for you to think about another day. 

Because now, you’re focused on him again. He’s been talking more tonight than he usually does—most nights, he’ll spend the majority of the time just listening to you, a soft smile on his face and a captivated look in his eye, but tonight, he’s been rather vocal, people watching with you and making sly advances that you think is just plain cruel considering he hasn’t even kissed you yet. 

But tonight, you’ve decided, will be the night. 

You’ve been trying to figure out how to go about it, if you should just invite him back to your apartment—something you’ve done before, so there shouldn’t be any nerves but you still find yourself wavering because you don’t know how you’re going to proceed once you get to your apartment. You are not a seducer. You have no experience in seducing. In fact, you are usually the one being seduced. So every time your lips part to ask if he wants to leave the club, you find yourself withering and faltering, waiting for a ‘better’ chance as if one will magically arise.

It does. 

It’s when a fight breaks out on the dancefloor a bit too close to where you’re sitting, certainly the result of some sleazy man trying to put his hands on a woman who already has a date, when you finally force yourself to stop pussying out. You let out a shriek as you stumble forward off your barstool when one of the men careens a bit too closely to you, and it’s only by Dazai’s swift reaction, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you to him and steadies you, that you don’t go toppling onto the floor. 

Your eyes widen as you watch the fight escalate, a bit entertained now that you’re safe in his arms from becoming collateral damage, but Dazai looks distinctly unimpressed by the scene taking place a few feet away, lips twisted into a deep frown. You watch as he shoots a sharp look to one of the bouncers lingering by the door, and you note how the man immediately moves forward to break up the fight. Interesting. You’ve noticed that the people at the work tend to be respectful to him, but that’s the first time you’ve seen them seemingly take a silent order from him.

You steel your nerves and you decide to try your hand.

“Would you… maybe want to get out of here?”

You look nervous, Dazai watches you carefully as he leads you across the club to the exits, so he figures that there’s something else going on in your head right now. You’ve been quiet most of the night, he realizes, and he wonders if something is wrong. If something happened. His mind immediately catapults to the worst case scenario: that someone found out about the two of you, despite how careful he’s been in making sure that the places he’s brought you to were locked down by the Port Mafia before you arrived with him, and you’re being threatened.

His thoughts race. Albatross should still be waiting where Dazai left him, so if something goes wrong, he’ll be ready. Dazai glances at you again, and he slowly realizes that you don’t seem nervous because you’re fearful of something, and his anxieties slowly are edged away. 

But that only gives rise to new anxieties because then what’s making you so nervous then? What did you mean by get out of here? Do you want to go somewhere else? (but where, the longer he’s out in the open, the more of a risk there will be without him taking precautions beforehand like he usually does) Do you want to be dropped off back at your apartment? (that’s what he initially assumed, but he doesn’t want the night to end yet) Do you want to invite him to your apartment? (it wouldn’t be the first time, but it doesn’t leave him any less nervous. he’s terrified of making the wrong move) Do you want him to invite you to his apartment? (god, he hopes not)

The last option cannot happen. You’re already suspicious from the way the bartender and the other club patrons have been treating him the past few weeks, and now you’re doubly suspicious, Dazai can tell from the way your eyes squint as the bouncers at the entrance of the club nod their heads to him. If he brings you back to his place, the tallest of the five towers making up the Port Mafia base, there’s no way you won’t put together that something’s up with him and the last thing he wants is to scare you away. Even if you don’t know what the buildings are exactly, you’ll definitely question him about his occupation, go back to the dangerous line of questioning you’ve been treading on lately, and when he can’t give you a straight answer, it’ll become all the more apparent that it’s something shady and if you’re smart, you’ll make an excuse to leave and then never seek him out again.

Realistically, he probably won’t be able to hide this from you for long, but it just has to be long enough for him to woo you so the news isn’t so jarring that it makes you cut off all contact with him. Although, Dazai isn’t sure if any amount of time will make the knowledge that he’s a mafia boss not jarring enough to flee. His heart feels a bit heavy, wondering if this is all a mistake because how the hell is he supposed to just accept it when you inevitably decide to leave? And isn’t that what he should want, anyway? He wants you to keep yourself safe, no matter what the cost, and if you’re the one to cut him off, then he won’t be tempted to come looking for you again. He can protect you from the distance as he initially planned with the memory of the nights he’s spent with you pushing him forward. So maybe this is for the best.

You accepted all of the other Dazais, the traitorous part of his mind tried to convince himself that isn’t a hopeless cause, even though he knows that there’s a stark difference between who he is in this lifetime, the face of Japan’s underworld, drenched in blood and rotting from the inside out, and who he was in all of the other lifetimes, desperately trying to make himself a better man so that Odasaku would be proud of him. 

Maybe you’ll understand, he thinks weakly as the two of you leave the club. It’s drizzling now, and his eyes cut across the parking lot looking for Albatross, but his thoughts are lost—you understanding would mean he would have to tell you everything. He can’t do that. Not just because you would probably think he’s delusional, or psychotic, but because it would put the very fabric of this reality at risk. He can’t tell more people than necessary and stage five… 

His plan. 

Dazai’s gaze shifts back over to you, the sudden remembrance of what he’s been planning since he came in contact with the Book so many years ago spreading like ice through him. He should take you by the hand and lead you to the car, the rain is going to start coming down harder any second now, but Dazai is frozen because in his manic state, when he’d decided he can protect you in this life, be with you in this life, he hadn’t even given any thought to what would become of his plan, and he’s been so consumed by thoughts of you the past few weeks that it’s hardly crossed his mind.

He has to force himself to move forward, ignoring the way his mind is reeling—if he decides to live, what does that mean for Odasaku? For Atsushi and Akutagawa and Chuuya? For the world? Would he be condemning everything he’s worked to protect? He still thinks he can do it—protect you, that is—but would it be at the cost of everything else? He feels sick, trying to figure out if he’s going to have to plot out a whole new plan, as if this one hadn’t taken him years to come up with and implement. 

But you don’t move to follow him to the car where Albatross is waiting when he steps forward. Instead, you tilt your head up to the sky, lashes fluttering as rain begins to drizzle down from the dark sky. 

And Dazai’s spiraling thoughts halt. 

He thinks you look beautiful—you’re always beautiful, but he thinks there’s something magical about the picture of the small smile on your lips as rain drops slide across the smooth skin of your face. He tries to force himself to look away so he doesn’t seem creepy staring at you, but he can’t bring himself to.

You don’t seem to mind though, because you turn your attention to him, eyes lit up in a way that makes his heart race. “Dance with me,” you say suddenly, holding a hand out to him, the soft smile on your face is a bit mischievous now.

Dazai looks down at you, raising his eyebrows. “Here?” he asks, voice tainted with a hint of incredulity. “Now?”

“Mhm,” you say, unperturbed, holding your hand out more insistently. 

Dazai thinks he isn’t capable of denying you much of anything, but he can’t help but hesitate. Not because he doesn’t want to dance with you—he would sell what’s left of his wretched soul for just a single dance with you—but because the longer he’s out in the open, the more of a chance there might be an assassination attempt on him. Every time he goes out, he’s gambling his life. It would put you in danger, and it’s not like he brought Chuuya along for if something goes wrong. Albatross is capable enough, but his ability is not combat centric. 

Being seen with you in general could put you in danger, doubts begin to sprinkle through his head again, his heart lodged in his throat as remembers that Fyodor Dostoevsky and Agatha Christie aren’t the only threats to your life. He’s been as careful as he could be but even with all of the precautions in the world, there are still risks. He’s made new enemies in this lifetime, hundreds of them over the years, and if any one of them caught wind of you and his apparent attraction to you…

“If you wanted to dance, shouldn’t we have done that inside?” Dazai drawls instead, trying to play it off. Inside, where it’s significantly safer. Inside, where Dazai knows that there’s less of a chance of unsavory eyes falling upon the two of you because the club is owned by the Port Mafia and everyone let in is screened. Inside, where Dazai can still convince himself that he has the power to keep you safe. You’re entirely unbothered by his question, so he continues before you can shoot him down, “Where it’s not raining, and where there’s actually music.” 

“Haven’t you seen all of the romance movies?” you complain, smile widening. “Dancing in the rain is romantic, Dazai. Who needs music anyway? C’mon, dance with me.”

And how is Dazai supposed to say no to you when you look at him like that? Eyes wide and imploring, smile gentle—you look at him in a way that Dazai’s only dreamed of, and he knows that he’s a goner. Well, he’s known since he first met you, but it’s being made abundantly more clear right now with the way his heart, which he usually has such keen control over, beats rapidly in his chest. His lips part because he still wants to try to deny you—for your sake, not his—but no words leave them.

You don’t wait for his response anyway, hand darting out to catch his so you can drag him out into the parking lot. His eyes widen, stumbling forward and trying to catch his balance—you only laugh, intertwining your fingers with his while your other hand finds his waist, spinning the two of you in a reckless circle. 

“Keep up!” you tell him with a smile that causes his breath to catch. 

Dazai thinks he might die. His head feels fuzzy as you lead him in a wide ballroom dance, sweeping across the vacant parking lot with ease. He thinks he must look like a fool being dragged along in your dance like a puppet, hardly able to keep himself from tripping over his own feet. 

He’s not sure how you’re able to keep yourself so graceful, heels splashing in puddles as you lead him through spins and turns and pivots, but Dazai thinks you’re beautiful. Again. Extraordinarily so, even. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, the drizzle quickly becoming torrential, and your hair is wet and matted to your face, mascara a bit smeared underneath your eyes, but you’re laughing, and Dazai thinks you’re divine. Heavenly. Too ethereal to be tainted by the likes of him and yet here he is, the putrid skin of his fingers intertwined with your untarnished ones. You raise your arm and his, beckoning for him to twirl beneath it.

He does, and it’s awkward and clumsy because he’s too tall to comfortably perform the move, but you giggle loudly so it makes up for the embarrassment. And for a moment, Dazai can almost convince himself that this isn’t a life where he’s been forced to let the dark consume him for the betterment of the world; rather, it’s a world where he’s gone unsullied by the dark, his blood still runs red and you’re beautiful and you’re alive, and he’s just a boy who’s fallen so terribly in love with a girl so far out of his league that he thinks he might be dreaming when you return his interest. As he spins, he notices that his cheeks feel a bit strained and sore, and he realizes that there’s a smile on his face that matches your own, the muscles of his cheeks and jaw unused to stretching in such a manner and he hopes, anxiously, that it doesn’t look quite as unbearable as it feels.

If it does look unnatural, you don’t seem to mind. The rain blurs his vision and he’s forced to blink away the raindrops that keep falling into his eye, and for a split second, you’re standing before him in a pretty red dress on a sidewalk, and he’s the one leading you in the theatrical dance, dipping you down as lightning webs across the sky above the two of you, and he’s about to beg you for a kiss, he knows it but then-

He’s drawn out of his thoughts when you pull your hand back from his, but you don’t give him time to mourn the loss of your touch because then you’re slipping your arms around his neck, loose and casual. You’re pressed up close to him, chest brushing his and head tilted back so you can look up at him—a slower dance, swaying to the music of the wind and rain—and Dazai can hardly breathe. You’re so close. So close that he could kiss you if he wanted to. God, he wants to. He’s wanted to for weeks but every time he tries to gather the nerve to do it, he backs out.

“Where’d you go?” you ask softly, and he can barely hear you as thunder rumbles in the distance, brows furrowed in confusion, unsure of what you mean. You tap his temple twice gently, “Left me for a second there.” 

Oh, his throat feels a bit dry, realizing that you must’ve noticed when he started to slip back into the pages of the Book. Terrifying. Beautiful and terrifying, that’s what you are, if you can read him that well after meeting him once a week for a few weeks, he dreads to know how well you’d be able to read him once you start spending more and more time with him. But would it be so bad? To have someone that knows him so profoundly? He’s so alone all the damn time in this world, and you’re giving him a taste of a life where maybe he wouldn’t have to be. It’s terrifying. Tempting. He forces another smile onto his lips, and this time your eyes narrow, as if you know this one isn’t as genuine as the last. 

“How rude of me,” he murmurs, lifting his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He’s so close, he realizes again, hyper aware of the way his lips are almost brushing yours. He could kiss you if he wanted, he repeats, and he wants so badly but he doesn’t want to scare you away. “To leave behind such fine company.”

You don’t look content with his apparent attempt at avoiding the subject, and Dazai’s throat feels tight because it’s not really a conversation to have with you here. Now. Ever, really. 

For once, mother nature appears to be on his side, because before you can press on the subject, lightning strikes dangerously close to where the two of you are standing, making you jump, eyes wide. He takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist, guiding you over to where he left Albatross earlier in the night. 

The car is already running, Albatross is leaning back in the seat scrolling on the phone and Dazai nearly commits an atrocity when he sees that the man has his gun laying haphazardly on the dashboard. As if Albatross can feel Dazai’s murderous intent, he looks up from his phone and his eyes shoot open when he sees you with Dazai and he scrambles to holster his gun back at his waist. 

Luckily, you don’t notice. Or maybe unluckily, because your attention is still fixated on him and Dazai is not ready to have that discussion with you because how the hell is he supposed to say “Sorry! Lost in some worlds that don’t exist, and just so you know, we almost got married in some of them! And just so you know, I got you killed in all of them!”

Yeah. That would go over well. 

Instead, he opens the door to the car for you, letting you hop in the backseat. He follows after. Albatross slides his glasses to the bridge of his nose, an unscrupulous smile on his face that instantly has Dazai suspicious. He hopes the man knows that no friendship with Chuuya will save him if he decides to purposely embarrass Dazai in front of you. 

“You’re back!” You recognize Albatross immediately, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of him. Dazai is almost jealous until he remembers that you’re still holding his hand. “You weren’t driving last time.”

Right. Because of the raid on one of the Scarlet Gang’s warehouses in Tokyo. A mission that Dazai definitely should have been more available for on the off chance that something went wrong, but he was far too busy indulging in you. In his defense, he had no doubts that the mission would go according to plan—the Scarlet Gang is dangerous, yes, and Kawabata is a force to be reckoned with, but he’s simply not Dazai.  

“D’aw, didn’t think you’d recognize me, doll,” Albatross grins, tossing you a wink. “Good to see you again too. You’re significantly more sober tonight, aren’t you?”

Dazai’s eyes narrow a bit at the pet name, but he’s more focused on the way you throw your face into your hands with a groan, reminded of just how drunk you’d been the last time Albatross was playing chauffeur. You’re a messy drunk, he remembers fondly, he doesn’t remember ever seeing you drink in any of his other lives with you, and he feels a bit giddy at the thought that he gets to experience a side of you that the others never did. Even if he was spending half of the night holding your hair back while you threw your guts up, spluttering apologies through sobs and heaves. He would do it again. Without even the slightest hesitation, he would do it again. 

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” you ask, peeking one eye between your fingers to look at Dazai for confirmation. 

Dazai doesn’t even have the chance to assure you that no, you weren’t that bad, because Albatross is speaking again. Of course. 

“You were pretty damn bad, doll,” he grins, and you groan even louder, leaning your body over to rest your head on Dazai’s bicep. Dazai’s heart nearly leaps out of his throat. “S’alright though, boss took care of you.” 

“Did he?” you ask with a teasing smile, eyes glittering as you look up at Dazai, who suddenly feels a bit embarrassed, but Albatross rescues him. 

Maybe he does deserve the vacation he’s been bitching about wanting. 

“Where to?” Albatross asks, putting the car in gear, gaze flickering between you and Dazai briefly. 

Dazai is about to tell him your apartment when he catches the sudden apprehension on your face. He hesitates and waits for you to say whatever you want to say, but you don’t, instead you let out a puff of air and let your eyes slide shut. 

“Where do you want to go?” Dazai asks you.

You still look uncertain, but then you finally say, “I was meaning to stop and get some groceries at the convenience store on the way home. There’s one a few blocks away from my apartment. I can just walk over there if you drop me off at my place though, it’s fine.”

As if. The idea of you walking anywhere so late at night makes his skin crawl, especially considering there’s been a rise of violent crimes in the city that the Mafia has yet to get a handle on. He needs to push for that to be taken care of if he has to worry about you leaving your apartment to wander around so late. He makes a note to himself to bring it up to Chuuya later. 

“We can stop there on the way there. It’s no trouble.”

Albatross gives him a look, as if he’s asking if the boss of the Port Mafia is really about to go grocery shopping with a civilian in the middle of the night, forcing the Mafia’s best getaway driver to be their chauffeur. Dazai only gives him a cold, sharp look in return—if you need groceries, then they’ll stop for groceries. Simple as that. In a life where Dazai thought he’d never even be able to look at you, the chance of doing mundane chores like grocery shopping with you is not something he’ll just pass by. 

He can pretend to be normal. If only for a little longer. 

Until he has to go back to the base, and his lungs are clogged with corrupted air, being slowly suffocated by his surroundings.

Until you figure out who he is, and he’s alone again, being consumed by the void in his chest once more. 

He hardly considers the fact that he’s going somewhere with you where his subordinates haven’t made extensive efforts to ensure that no one suspicious is around to see the two of you. 

“Alrighty,” Albatross agrees, backing down as soon as he sees the expression on Dazai’s face. “To the convenience store.”

Your eyes brighten, a smile lights up your face. “Thanks,” you say relieved, and Dazai wants to say that you don’t ever have to thank him for everything and that he’d give you the entire world if given the chance, but he thinks that might be a bit weird so instead he settles on just giving you a small smile. “I’ll make you the best hot chocolate of your life when we get to my apartment. Just wait.” 

Dazai’s chest feels warm. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Wait here,” you tell both Dazai and Albatross as Albatross pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and stops the car outside of your building. Dazai, who’d been about to follow you, pauses from where he’s ducking beneath the doorframe to step out of the car, looking at you and waiting for an explanation. “... My apartment is a mess… I, um, wasn’t expecting company. Let me just… tidy up before you come in. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Dazai’s visible eye crinkles up in amusement as he sits back down in the backseat of the car and you immediately take off up toward the steps leading up to the second floor of your apartment, giddy and excited, grocery bag swinging and bumping against your hip as you make your way quickly up the steps. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You feel like a schoolgirl dealing with her first real crush, flustered and giggly, hardly able to hold a conversation without stuttering over your words. 

He’s just so… you don’t know how to describe it. Intense. But intense isn’t even the right word, because he’s not so intense that it makes you uncomfortable or overwhelmed, and that’s usually what you think of when someone is intense. Or maybe overwhelmed is a bit fitting, because you swear every time he sets his soft gaze down on you, your heart might leap out of your chest. Intense. Familiar, you don’t know how it’s possible to feel like you’ve known someone you’ve only met a few times your entire life.

Your fingers fumble as you try to unlock your door. One, two, three, it takes three attempts for you to finally slide the key into the lock, pushing open your door and stepping inside, free from the torrential rain and wild wind outside.

You sigh and rest your back against the door as you shut it behind you, eyes sliding shut. 

Who are you, Dazai Osamu?

Someone important. 

Of course, you noticed how he was treated by the workers of the club—the bartender, the bouncers, even just the regular patrons. The restaurants he’s brought you to the past few weeks, they all treated him the same way. There were plenty of men there that were dressed in expensive clothes and held themselves highly, but none were treated the same way Dazai was.

Someone dangerous. 

You’d also caught a glimpse of the gun on the dash of Albatross’s car. (His driver, another point to note because who has a driver except very important people) Only three types of people have guns in Japan—military, police, and criminals, and you’re pretty sure he’s not part of the military or police force…

Someone you probably shouldn’t be so drawn to.

That should be enough to make you run. It really should be. You have no explanation or excuse for why you’re not besides the fact that you might not be as smart as you herald yourself to be. You shouldn’t feel giddy when he smiles softly at you, you should be nervous. You shouldn’t be longing for his touch, you should be avoiding it. Instead, you’re leaning against your door, smiling like an idiot after making him wait for you to clean up your apartment so you don’t embarrass yourself. 

Oh, you’re such a fool. But how could you not be with how he treats you? Tucking hair behind your ear, setting a gaze so soft on you that you think it might make your heart stop, dancing with you in the rain clumsily with rosy cheeks and wide eyes. How is it possible for you to reconcile the way the man acts with you to the way others treat him? Or maybe that’s just delusion speaking. It could be, honestly. You think if your brother was living with you, he’d be horrified, might lock you away for the rest of your life; you think your friends already want to put you in a psych ward and they’d only become all the more insistent if they knew half of the things you’ve noticed. 

But your brother left you and your friends don’t know, so nothing is stopping you from making what might be a terrible decision. 

You let out a breath as you push yourself off the door, placing down your grocery bags on the table by your door so you can scramble to pick up all of the stray clothes you’d tossed around your apartment as you frantically tried to find an outfit earlier in the night. You reach over to turn on your light, flicking the switch once, then twice, and then three times.

No way.

You sigh deeply, head falling back against the wood door of your apartment, knocking the back of your head against it twice in frustration. Letting out a irate puff of air, you push yourself off of the door and force yourself to get to work. It’s not the end of the world, hopefully it'll come back soon, the providers are usually quick with getting the outages fixed, even in your shitty area. 

You force yourself to move forward, frowning deeply as you scoop up all of the paperwork spread out on your coffee table, making sure to keep it all in order as you move them over to the desk you have by your window seat. You drop the pile down and cast your gaze out to all of the clothes strewn haphazardly around your apartment, cursing yourself for having been so messy earlier when you were trying on just about every outfit you own and then flinging them around frustrated when you decided they weren’t good enough.

You scowl as you bend down to pick them all up, deciding you’ll just stuff them messily in your closet and fold them later when you don’t have company. As you zoom around trying to snag all of the dresses and different pairs of bras and underwear scattered about, your mind races. Your stove should still work because your landlord refuses to install any modern appliances into your apartment, for better or for worse, so you have an old model that shouldn’t be affected by the outage. But you think it’ll be awkward sitting in the dark, you think you have a few candles stored away in your room—you’ll have to find them and set them up. 

Candlelit evening, how romantic! you think to yourself, a bit dreamily. You wonder if Albatross will be coming up to join the two of you in your apartment, you’d offered to make him a drink too but you figure it’ll be Dazai’s decision if he’ll be waiting outside or…

Or maybe, he’ll send him home. 

You get giddy at the thought—candlelights, slightly tipsy after a night out, you take a peek under your dress to try to figure out which underwear you’d decided on earlier and if you should change into a different pair but are delighted when you realize that you’d gone with your pretty red ones. 

You think he’ll like them. 

Hopefully. 

You like them, they’re your favorites.

Oh, you have to clean your bedroom too, you think to yourself in partial agony because you don’t know how the hell you’re going to clean up everything in there without making Dazai wait out there for an hour. You get anxious at the thought, worrying that if you take too long, he might leave, so you pick up the pace. You snatch the last stray bra hanging on the arm of your couch before taking off into your bedroom.

You hardly get a step into the room before you’re freezing in your tracks.

No way.

You stare at your bed, arms falling loose to your side, lips parted in shock. The clothes you’d cleaned up all drop aimlessly to the floor around you. Your bed is drenched with water—your sheets soaked, your mattress soaked, the ceiling heavy with rainwater from a leak you didn’t know you had.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out to yourself, unsure of what exactly you should do, never having had a problem like this before.

You think this is what you get, seeking out the cheapest possible apartment complex to stay in because you’re trying to save all of the money you have for school. Now, your mattress is ruined, your ceiling looks like it’s on the verge of collapse and oh my god, you left your laptop on your bed. 

A noise caught between a whimper and cry of frustration leaves your lips as you dive forward, fishing your laptop out of the massive pool of water flooding your bed. You hold it in front of your face between two fingers, watching as water drips from it down to the ground. 

There goes your laptop too.

You think you might be sick. 

Now, you have to deal with a landlord who is decidedly not helpful when it comes to issues in the complex and you have nowhere to sleep. Maybe you can call one of your friends to stay at their place, but it’s already the middle of the night and you know two of them have their own entrance exams tomorrow for the programs that they’re applying to.

Unless…

Your gaze shifts to the window in your room, looking between the blinds to see Dazai and Albatross still waiting outside in their car. 

Okay. Most urgent problem temporarily fixed. Maybe.

Dazai has a place. He has to. He’s clearly rich. It’s probably a much nicer place than yours too. You can go there, at least for the night. He wouldn’t just leave you with nowhere to go… right? No, of course he wouldn’t. You need to pack then, instead of cleaning. 

Okay, this is fine. 

It’s fine. 

It takes you about five minutes to grab a few spare pairs of clothes into the duffle bag laying at your bedroom door, occasionally tossing dirty looks at the leak ruining your bed. When you finish throwing your clothes in the duffle—unfolded and hastily, of course, they’ll be terribly wrinkled—you rise to your feet and swing the bag over your shoulder, making your way back to your door and grabbing your groceries. 

You don’t know what to say to him when you get back to the car. You’re probably being a bit presumptuous. Okay, a lot presumptuous—Dazai has never invited you back to his place, you’ve invited him to yours—but you don’t really have another choice.

You exhale as you step back into the rain, locking your apartment and making your way back down the steps to the complex’s parking lot. You don’t let yourself hesitate as you dart across the parking lot toward the car, fearing that if you take a second to actually think about what you’re doing—inviting yourself into someone else’s home!—you’ll probably back out.

You open the car door. You slide back inside, taking a seat behind the passenger seat. You drop your duffle bag on the floor between your feet and place your groceries back down between you and Dazai. You can feel both Dazai and Albatross staring at you. You stare ahead.

“... My apartment is flooded,” you finally say after a few moments.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, brows furrowing as he watches you. You can hardly bring yourself to look at him, trying to peek at him from the corner of your eye as best as you can without being too obvious about it. He’s not responding. Albatross isn’t moving the car. You’re getting the urge to bolt, to run upstairs and drown yourself in the puddle of water on your bed. 

Finally, Albatross clears his throat. “Boss?”

Dazai still doesn’t respond. You think you might be doubly sick now, and embarrassed. An awful combination, really. You know that he knows what you came back here hoping for, and you realize that he might just send you back to your flooded apartment instead because he obviously did not sign up for taking in some random girl that he’s met a few Fridays for the night because she has nowhere else to go. 

You finally turn your face to look at Dazai head on and you can feel that your eyes are glassy, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You don’t know how pathetic you must look for Dazai’s expression to shift the way it does, his conflicted expression crumbling as he turns away from you. You don’t want to know how pathetic you must look, you’d only feel even more humiliated.

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally says: “Drive.”

Albatross’s eyes shoot open, he physically turns to look at Dazai, “But-”

You don’t catch the look that Dazai gives Albatross, too busy basking in the relief of having somewhere to stay for the night, but whatever it is, it makes Albatross turn back to face the wheel without another word, turning the car back on and shifting it into gear before pulling out of the parking lot. 

As soon as you’re on the move, you turn your attention back down to your phone, trying to figure out if you should message your landlord now or in the morning, dreading the inevitable argument you’re going to have with him. You fiddle with the device, occasionally sparing looks at Dazai, but the man is lost in thought next to you, visible eye distant and conflicted.

You can’t bring yourself to say anything so the whole drive to Dazai’s apartment is long and quiet. Even Albatross, who’s had no difficult sparking conversation the whole drive to your place, stays silent.

You’re bummed, all of the excitement you felt about bringing Dazai back to your place is long gone, feeling the stress of having to replace everything that’s been ruined by the leak and the anxiety of dealing with your landlord; all you want to do is sleep and die. Okay. That’s dramatic. But you’re exhausted and you really do want to sleep. Maybe not die, but definitely sleep. 

You lay your head against the window, eyes starting to droop shut, and you can feel Dazai glancing at you now but you can’t even bring yourself to look over at him. Instead, you keep your eyes trained outside the window, only perking up when Albatross finally starts slowing to a stop.

And then, you’re suddenly not tired at all. Your eyes widen as he pulls to the front of the tallest of the five black buildings that tower over the Naka ward, lips parting as you crane your head to look up out the window and then look pointedly back at Dazai, stunned.

Dazai refuses to meet your gaze, staring ahead. 

… You think that your instincts about this man must be spot on. 

Too bad you’re not listening to them.

“You’ve gone crazy.”

Dazai’s gaze draws up from the paperwork he’s definitely not doing, far too preoccupied with thoughts of you; it’s cold and cutting as it lands on Chuuya. His executive enters the room without any type of announcement, his voice just as cold as Dazai’s expression—he supposes it’s testimony to how angry he is, because Chuuya is only frigid in his anger when he’s really been pushed to the brink.

Naturally, Dazai only smiles, a slow and taunting one that he knows presses all of Chuuya’s buttons from the way the man’s bicolored eyes flash with fury. Chuuya storms over to Dazai’s desk, making his way until he’s standing right in front of him. 

“How so?” Dazai drawls, folding his hands over his lap as he leans back in his chair, tilting his head to the side questioningly. 

“How so?” Chuuya spits out, slamming his hands down on Dazai’s desk. Dazai raises his eyebrows and then lifts his chin, looking pointedly down to where Chuuya’s hands are splayed against his desk. Chuuya doesn’t flinch—of course he doesn’t, he’s Chuuya—but he does pull his hands back to himself, albeit snarling as he does it. “The hell are you bringing some random woman back to our base? Back to your room? Going out alone the past few weeks when you know you’ve got a bounty on your head higher than most world leaders? I was letting it slide but this is too far, why the hell is she here? You’ve gone crazy, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Careful, Chuuya,” Dazai warns, voice quiet, expression growing a bit flinty when he brings you up. Dazai doesn’t care if Chuuya wants to rail on him for being reckless, but he’s not allowed to drag you into it. He decides to not acknowledge the comment about you, focusing on the end of his tirade, “I was with one of the Flags, I wasn’t alone.”

“Albatross isn’t cut out for that type of combat and you know it,” Chuuya snaps, glaring at Dazai. “If one of those bounty hunters came after you, you both would’ve been killed. What’s gotten into you? Never took you for the type to be this reckless. You get a taste of a woman’s c-”

“I said careful, Chuuya. Know your place,” Dazai repeats, voice icy. The warning is gone, only a threat remains—Chuuya doesn’t need to finish his sentence for Dazai to know where he was going with it, the way the man’s eyes darted over to Dazai’s bedroom was more than enough to confirm it. 

“Is this a goddamn joke to you?” Chuuya asks, keeping his voice low, his lips flat and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t get it. You’ve always been so careful, more than anyone else. What the hell does one random woman have that’s making you risk all of this?” 

“I’m not risking anything,” Dazai tells him coolly, “and she’s not just some random woman.”

Chuuya’s expression shifts, brows furrowing deeper; Dazai can see the tiny cogs working behind his eyes as he thinks. He wonders if Chuuya has been drinking tonight, catching the pink hue to his cheeks and the hazy look coating his eyes. 

No wonder he’s so angry then, Dazai muses, he must have been out with Kouyou when he got word that Dazai left the base again without any protection detail and then brought someone up to his room who in Chuuya’s mind, could be an assassin for all he knows. 

Suddenly, the confusion clears and something closer to realization sweeps across Chuuya’s face. His gaze turns back pointedly in the direction of Dazai’s bedroom.

“That’s her,” Chuuya says, disbelief dripping from his tone. “The girl you’ve had Kouyou looking over for years. What the fuck, Dazai? I thought the whole point of having Kouyou look after her was so that you kept away from her.”

Dazai stares at Chuuya, only for a moment, because then his gaze drifts back to the door leading into his bedroom, mind drifting. He supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised that Kouyou told Chuuya about it—Dazai wasn’t explicit enough with his orders, only telling Kouyou to ensure that Dazai himself never knew anything about her. Of course, the woman would bring it up to Chuuya, probably hoping Chuuya had some insight into why Dazai is so insistent on your protection. 

Chuuya didn’t, of course, but he guesses that only made the topic of you and Dazai’s apparent random attachment to you even more of an interesting topic for their wine sessions. Honestly, he’s surprised that Chuuya didn’t realize earlier that the girl he’s been seeing is the one he’s had Kouyou assigned to. Kouyou surely should have known by now.

You’re fast asleep by now. He got lucky because of how exhausted you were over the stress of the whole situation: he didn’t have to deal with the questions that he was certain would arise as soon as you caught sight of the Port Mafia base. You were all but falling asleep on your feet as the two of you stood in the glass elevator leading up to Dazai’s apartment, the penthouse in the centermost of the five buildings consisting of the Port Mafia base. Dazai thought he was about to have a heart attack when you swayed on your feet and ended up resting your head on his bicep, eyes drooping shut. You only managed a few sleepy protests as he led you to his bedroom, asking where he was going to sleep if you take his room (the fact that you worry about him when you’re even on the brink of falling asleep on your feet made his fingers tingle), but you gave in quickly at his insistence. 

He should feel some sort of pity, or sympathy, because he could see the weariness in your eyes and the fatigue plaguing your body. Dazai might not be capable of feeling pity or sympathy for most people, but if he could feel it for anyone, it would be you. But he does not, and it’s for a selfish reason, of course: your misfortune led to you turning to him for help, and the thought of that alone makes his chest feel light and giddy. 

Yes, he’s going to have to figure out some sort of excuse tomorrow for when you wake up and inevitably have questions—he is not ready for you to know about his position in the Port Mafia—but right now you’re sleeping in his bed and you’re relying on him for help. His fingers thrum against his desk, jittery with excitement, he almost forgets Chuuya is there until he hears the man let out a sharp noise of disgust at Dazai's apparent exhilaration. 

Distantly, very distantly, he knows this is bad. You’ve been smart and observant in every universe, you’re going to put together that something is seriously wrong—you were not supposed to come back to his place, but how was he supposed to say no to you when you were looking at him with teary eyes and nowhere else to go? The thought itself feels like sacrilege. 

“You know what we are and what we do,” Chuuya says, voice calmer now as he shakes his head and fishes a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with his free hand before he turns to leave. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but you’re putting this girl in danger after the lengths you went to keep her safe. I don’t get it.”

He squints a bit as Chuuya’s words ring through his head. That’s what he had thought too, but he’s the last person to admit to Chuuya that he might be right. A cold feeling starts to set over him, spreading through his chest like ice. If he’s going to think about this realistically, you’re probably already in danger just from being around him. The likelihood of someone catching sight of the two of you the past few weeks is higher than he’s comfortable with, even with the precautions that he’s taken, especially with tonight outside the club and at the convenience store. The thought is terrifying, enough to immediately kill off the jittery excitement that had been running through his body. 

Dazai’s index finger traces the outline of his lips, his mind races. What does he do? If you’re in danger, he can’t just let you go back to your apartment and leave you undefended in a sketchier part of the city. His enemies will jump on it. They’ll target you. But he can’t just keep you here. It’ll be too risky, you’ll figure out who he is and what he does, and that’s not even considering the fact that maybe you won’t even want to stay. You might wake up in the morning and head to someone else’s place—you’d made a vague comment about not wanting to intrude and going to a friend’s house tomorrow but the thought makes his stomach twist a bit. 

God, he’s so conflicted. 

But the first thing to handle is making sure that you don’t go back to your apartment alone. The rest he can figure out later on—he has to decide if he’d rather try to keep you around the base and risk you figuring out what he does (god, he wants to keep you around) or if he should just send you off to a “friend’s” (he still stands by the fact that your ‘friends’ are shitty because what sort of friends leave their drunk friend alone at a bar with a stranger—even if he knows that he’d rather let the world burn than see harm come upon you, they don’t know that) with an extra protection detail. One that you wouldn’t know is there, naturally. 

But how does he make sure you don’t go back to your apartment after the leak is fixed? 

He thinks to himself, an idea coming to him swiftly. It’s a bit dark, yes, and he’s sure that if you knew, you’d run for the hills but… to keep you safe, he would do whatever it takes. Even if you’d hate him for it if you knew. 

But what you don’t know won’t hurt you. 

“Chuuya,” Dazai says before the man can leave his apartment. Chuuya stops dead in his tracks, not turning to look at Dazai, but waiting for whatever he has to say. “I’m going to text you the number of her landlord… make sure he doesn’t get her apartment fixed any time soon. And let Gin-chan know I might have a guest for the next few days so she’s not caught off guard tomorrow.”

Chuuya scoffs. “You’re a freak, Dazai.”

Dazai only smiles idly to himself, eyes sliding shut as he leans back in the chair at his desk, Chuuya leaves without another word, Dazai loses himself in thoughts of you. 

A freak? Yeah, maybe. In love? Definitely. 

Should he convince you to stay with him? The thought bounces around his head frantically. He doesn’t know the answer. The more careful part of him screams no, tells him that it’s too dangerous to keep you around. It’s dangerous for you, because the longer you’re around here, the more at risk you’ll be of getting hurt. It’s dangerous for him, because the longer you’re around here, the more at risk he’ll be of getting exposed,

But the less logical part of him, the one that’s consumed by the idea of you, and the chance he has of being with you, is much louder. 

You came to him, he reminds himself. You found him. He tried to be good. He did everything he could to stay away from you, but you still found him. And you chose to seek him out again. You chose to. It’s easier to blame it on you, convince himself that you brought this upon yourself, as if you had any idea what sort of sick and fucked up person Dazai really is, as if you have any idea what’s happened to you in every other universe because of him.

He can never go back to how he was living before meeting you; he can’t. 

You came to him. 

Why should he have to let you go now?

With that thought in mind, Dazai thinks the answer to his question is made abundantly clear. 

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x yoju #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

[4ngel-inc]

SLUTTY OSAMU DAZAI — 𝓒𝓡𝓨 𝓕𝓞𝓡 𝓜𝓔 ᰔ

summary — after catching dazai flirting with another woman, you decide to remind him he's yours. sure, you're a little mean about it, but how else will he learn to behave himself?

tags — [ MDNI / 18+ ], dialogue heavy, fem reader, dominant reader, submissive dazai, dirty talk, punishment, verbal degradation. 2.1k words.

you're certain dazai doesn't know what's coming—how could he? you've been tugging on his arm the entire walk home, your fingers interlaced with his as you laugh at all of his cheesy jokes just the way he likes, fluttering your eyelashes when he looks over toward you with that beautiful smile that makes nearly everyone melt.

you almost feel bad, the way you're deceiving him, the way you're hiding how angry and frustrated you are at how disobedient he's been—but he's just so gorgeous, you can't help but spoil your sweet little baby with a few soft kisses and fake laughs before you get home. what could it hurt, after all? the cafe is only a few blocks from your shared apartment, surely indulging his ego for a short time longer couldn't cause any harm.

when you finally enter your shared home, dazai sighs, happy to be in his safe space that smells so much like you again. "ah- that was fun," he hangs his coat and scarf in the entryway closet before turning towards you, smiling as he takes yours off for you as well. "this looks pretty on you, i like the color," he unwinds your plaid scarf from your neck and hangs it up before sliding your coat down your arms, carefully ruffling it into place before he hangs it back on the velvet hanger.

"i'm glad you had fun," your voice is still as sweet as it was on the walk home, "you looked handsome."

"awww," he tugs on your arm to pull you in, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he gazes down at you lovingly, his eyes eventually falling to your lips, "you always know just what to say, angel, i swear my heart beats faster when such sweet things fall from these lips," he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip and leans closer to kiss you, but you stop him with a hand against his chest just before his mouth touches yours.

he frowns, eyes fluttering back open, "something wrong? i wanted a kiss." you detect the hint of a whine in his tone, and it makes your heart clench—you really should be nicer to him, shouldn't you? surely he didn't mean to be so insufferable at the cafe, but it's been much too much lately. every time you turn around, you catch dazai making eyes at another waitress or flirting with the barista at your local coffee shop. it's just. . . too much.

you've even been extra patient with him lately, understanding he's probably just feeling a little needy—but despite all of your sweet kisses and compliments and the way you ride him until he's practically crying each night, he still wants more. your love isn't enough for him, clearly. but if he's going to look elsewhere for affection, you might as well remind him what he's missing out on every second his mind isn't on you and you alone. you've practically given him everything, what would happen if you took it all away?

"yes, i know you wanted a kiss. but why take one from me? my kisses are precious." you separate yourself from him a bit, and he looks like he might cry already.

"i don't know what that means?"

"why kiss me? there are plenty of people in the world you can kiss, why choose me?"

he whines, "don't joke around, honey bun. come here, you're the only one i want to kiss." he attempts to pull you back in, but you turn away, kicking your heels off before settling on the bar stool behind you with your legs crossed.

"we need to talk, dazai."

"w-why are you calling me that?" his eyes are glossy now, and he unconsciously juts his lower lip out a bit. his stomach twists and it already feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest, all from simply hearing his name leave your lips drenched with such a thick tone of disappointment. he's failed you again, that much he's sure of, but how? why?

"because you don't fucking listen when i'm nice to you, do you?"

"i- wh- where is this coming from? what did i do?"

"you disrespected me, again, but of course you know that- you just can't keep it in your pants for five fucking seconds even though you know it'll piss me off. come here," you gesture to him and he approaches you stoically, knowing better than to reach out toward you or try to touch you. "maybe you like making me mad, is that it?" you reach up to run a hand through his hair, and he almost thinks you're cooling down from your gentle tone at the last statement, until you land a soft slap to his face, with just the right amount of pressure to have his cock twitching in his pants.

his mouth falls open, unsure of what to say. despite the fact you're "punishing" him, he selfishly wants this game to continue, per usual. it is why he enjoys pissing you off in the first place, after all. you uncross your legs and jump from the barstool, striding into your shared bedroom, "come." he follows your lead like a lost puppy until you shut the door in his face. "oh, did you want to come in?" you call through the door sarcastically.

he's silent again for a moment before speaking, "do i have to sleep here?" dazai knows your ways by now, it wouldn't be the first time you've made him sleep away from you, though you've never actually made him sleep on the floor, only at the edge of your shared bed, as far away from you as possible, or on the couch when you're feeling particularly spiteful.

he pouts and begins to walk away until he hears the click of the door opening, "hmm, i'm not sure. do you think you deserve to come in?" your pretty eyes scolding him wordlessly only entices him more—he's always loved your eyes, the pretty color of your irises and fullness of your lashes only has his cock growing harder in his slacks.

"i'll do anything."

"anything? that's a heavy promise, dazai."

—

"you wanted to get fucked, didn't you? what if i fuck you here?" your finger traces over dazai's tight hole, threatening to press a finger in, though he knows you won't. you just love to tease him—love to threaten harsher punishment he knows you won't actually give.

though you never push him past his limits, the thought still intrigues him, though he won't pursue it. "n-not there," he whines, and you relent, leaning forward to kiss his shaft again, fingers playing with the bead of precum at the tip.

"this cock is so fucking pathetic, you expect me to fuck you? i'm too pretty for a man like you, you're nothing but a womanizer."

"i'm sorry, i'm just- s-so sorry," his head lolls back as you continue to tease his cock with your fingertips, squeezing the spongy head lightly, pulling a deep groan from him as he pulls his legs back farther, hands hooked under his knees like you'd instructed. his cock, balls, and asshole on full display has him feeling more vulnerable than ever, though he loves the feeling of being entirely submitted to you.

"yeah, you told me already. but what are you going to do to change?"

"i w-wasn't serious, only flirting. she isn't even as pretty as you."

"flirting? you know what, dazai, i deserve better than you. you think women are just disposable, don't you? do you only love me because i'm pretty?"

"no!" he practically screams, "i can be better, f-for you."

you pull away at his words, removing your hands from him entirely, leaving him feeling cold and lonely. "i want to believe you, babe," you sigh, clearly exhausted, "but i don't know if you really mean it."

"let me show you?" he whines, and you relent.

"fine, come here," you squeeze his slender waist, encouraging him to approach you as he crawls into your lap, your hands squeezing his ass as he settles on top of you.

"i'll show you, i'll be everything you need. you don't need anyone else, i don't need anyone else. can i just-"

"just what? tell me, what do you want, osamu?" hearing you use his real name for the first time feels like a salve, soothing all of his worries, a bit of his confidence returning.

"can i. . . fuck you? i think you're so pretty, so perfect . . . so smart, you're so good to me, i-" he goes on and on for what feels like hours, complimenting you, whispering sweet praises, crying for you to fuck him, laying on the bed stroking his cock, doing anything he can to make you believe him, and when you don't climb on top of him after all of it, real tears finally spill from his eyes.

"you don't love me," he states matter of factly, and it's enough. . . it's just enough to make you give in, to end this little charade before his feelings are truly hurt—something you'd never want.

"i do love you, baby. i really do . . ." you straddle him as you stroke his cheek, wiping away the tears as he sniffles, examining the wetness as you rub your fingertips together, seemingly deep in thought. "but please, don't disobey me again. it hurts." he nods, and you finally give him what he wants.

who are you to deny your sweetest baby, after all? you've been so mean, your angel deserves a little praise after everything he's been through, right?

—

"you like that, don't you?" your hands squeeze dazai's throat gently, and though he's unable to respond fully, his eyes roll back, cock hardening inside you as you ride him—your hips undulate back and forth as your ass ripples, his hands gripping it tightly, almost as if he'll lose you completely if he lets go.

"i-uh," his voice cracks, and you release your hand.

"what is it? tell me, baby. use your words."

"f-feels so good, think i'm gonna cum already," his eyes are pleading, asking you wordlessly if he can cum inside you as he grabs your hand and places it back on his throat, squeezing his hand on top of yours.

"y'gonna cum inside me? you want that, honey?"

he nods frantically, finally spilling into you as you ride him faster, your hips moving against his at an almost harsh pace. "oh, 'm-cumming, inside, cumming inside, wanna fill you, wanna fill you- oh, god, it's good, oh it's good, mm," his little whines and whimpers are like music to your ears as he babbles mindlessly, enough to have you tightening around him silently as you cum as well—though you don't make a show of it, you don't want any attention on yourself anymore, only on him, your devoted lover, your sweetest angel. the person you love more than life itself.

as the heavy breathing in the room calms to a more comforting silence, you nuzzle into dazai's neck, placing soft kisses there. "i love you, osamu. you know that, right? you were so good."

he smiles, squeezing his arms around you as your feet gently caress his under the covers. "i know, i just-" you look up at him inquisitively, waiting for him to finish his sentence, "i love everything you do to me, feels so good. 's that wrong?"

"no, of course not. it's perfect, it's us."

he sighs, pulling you against him. despite disappointing you, dazai finds comfort in the fact the two of you fit perfectly together, body and soul. you make him so happy, he'll never do anything to upset you again—he tells himself as much.

though, in all honesty, he could get used to your punishment—somehow it always makes him feel even more loved in the end.

#— love notes: [dazai] ୧ ‧₊ #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bsd headcanons

[raitonsfw]

𝚢𝚘𝚔𝚘𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚊'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 (𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞) | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai had saved you from the near pits of hell and you smiled at his invitation requesting that you join the agency. When you accepted his invitation, he was over the moon and you two quickly became inseparable. You obviously knew he had feelings for you and you thought nothing of it as you were too shy to return them. That is until he asks to spend the night in the midst of a snowstorm, let alone sleep in the same bed as you? You couldn’t say no, the thought of finally being with him weighing heavily on your mind.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, virgin!reader, shy!reader, smut, first time, fingering, cunnilingus, breast play, grinding (specifically dazai grinding against the bed), p in v intercourse, a little bit of pain, teasing, slight dirty talk, cursing, consent, pining (if you squint), embarrassment (reader moans loudly and dazai fucking loves it), implied aftercare, mention of a dazai-typical suicide, reader wraps his bandages around him for him bc he cant do it himself (he’s a stubborn boy), pet names (darling, precious thing, baby, my dear), use of honorifics.

a/n: a piece for one of my dear followers, i hope you enjoy lovely! 🧡 personally adore writing dazai in every type of scenario and i also have another virgin!reader request for him with a special twist so fellow dazai lovers, be on the lookout for that in the next few days! wc: 3k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The air was astonishingly crisp and you sighed into your sleeve, the wind catching up to you to ultimately freeze you over. The coat you wore didn’t keep you very warm, it shouldn’t even be classified as a winter coat to be fair. Your boots crunched under the frost that had accumulated on the sidewalk and you bundled yourself up tightly as the winter picked up its rein over Yokohama, snow falling against the rooftops and you fumbled with your keys to the apartment door in front of you. 

Your apartment had a sickle warmth coming from it and you nearly collapsed onto the sofa from exhaustion. The day had been nothing but helping Yosano shopping in the heart of the city, the bags heavily weighing you down as she piled on top as much stuff she could possibly buy for the holidays. It was a cute gesture, you thought but you didn’t think that Ranpo needed that much candy stuffed into his stocking.

The sun had just begun to set, the lack of light barely registering as you looked around the dim apartment. It was neater than usual and you picked up the presence that somebody had cleaned it for you. The kitchen was tidied up with the exception of some baked treats sitting out on the counter and the living room had a scented candle lit against the coffee table. You couldn’t think of anyone else who had your house key besides Dazai. 

“Dazai-san?” You whispered out, looking towards the bedroom for his company. He sometimes stayed in your apartment after a much needed break from the agency dorms, away from its noise and the constant bugging of the other coworkers that resided there. You two were close, but there was still a certain distance kept between the both of you; but you trusted him nonetheless since he was the one who had invited you to join the agency. 

Peering into your bedroom, Dazai was fast asleep. Light snores came from him and you smiled to yourself as you moved over to wake him up. He was in your bed mind you, this has happened quite often and you found it adorable that he sought comfort in your bed. You knew he harbored feelings for you, that was the distance that refused to close between you two; you were simply just too shy to return his feelings and he never made a move on you in fear of making you uncomfortable. 

You placed your hand on his shoulder, the action enough to stir him from his sleep. His eyes lazily opened and he yawned loudly, “Oh, Y/N-san, you’re home.” 

“Thank you for cleaning.” 

“Needed a place to escape to, Atsushi-kun was driving me insane.” He whispered, stretching out onto the bed. He looked at you with a tired expression and you wished you could just gently lean down and kiss him but your nerves got the best of you. Again. You pressed your lips together as you pulled your hand away from his shoulder. 

“Can we share the bed tonight?” Dazai asked as he sat up from the bed, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s sooo comfy.” 

You blushed at his comment, completely blindsided by the sudden request from him. You were more than fine with him sleeping over, the snow had begun to pile up on the streets and it was beginning to look like a blizzard as it blew past the windows heavily. But sharing the bed is something he’s never asked you before, the intimacy of it making your cheeks hot. Normally he’d sleep on the sofa if he ever stayed over, leaving you to the privacy of your room. 

But this was different. Perhaps he was actually going to make a move on you? You weren’t really sure, the thought of it made your pulse quicken. Whatever happened you’d embrace it with open arms, hoping for a flourishing love with the man who had saved you from your old life.

You nodded and left him alone as you went about your home routines, though it didn’t last long as he followed you around your apartment with a grin. He ordered dinner for the both of you at no cost to you at all, though in truth it was probably Kunikida’s credit card he swiped because there was no way Dazai actually had more than twenty dollars on him. He rambled on about his day between mouthfuls and you found out about his suicide attempt had ultimately failed again, Ranpo’s breakdown about having not enough yummy snacks, and the holiday break coming up for the agency that you missed out on. 

Before you knew it, the clock struck late and you were standing in front of your bed after your shower, contemplating whether this was a good idea or not. Dazai had hopped in the shower after you, the water running as background noise for your thoughts. You dried off your hair, sitting on the edge of the bed and you heard the soft melodic hum of his song flow through the apartment. 

You dimmed the lights and went to find a book to read before bed when you heard the water turn off and you mildly panicked as he came out a few moments later, in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You had just gotten underneath the covers, the book opened to the page where you left off last abandoned as you gazed at Dazai. 

“I left clothes here before, haven’t I?” He muttered to himself, rummaging around your room as you sat quietly on the bed watching him. The droplets from his hair ran down his exposed chest back, something you didn’t see very often as his bandages wrapped around him fully. You felt that ache between your thighs, that cursed feeling that you knew you couldn’t satisfy very well. You were heavily inexperienced after all, the slightest bit of arousal made you quiver and you’ve never actually been with anyone due to the quietness you displayed.

“I think you left them in the second drawer, Dazai-san.” You murmured quietly, pointing to the dresser next to you. He glanced over to it then laughed to himself, opening the dresser to retrieve his clothing and a fresh stash of bandages to wrap himself in. 

“Of course I did, making myself right at home aren’t I?” He disappeared back into the bathroom and you exhaled shakily, pressing your thighs together underneath the covers. 

You heard a soft noise of disapproval from behind the closed door and Dazai came out with only his sweats on, a mild irritation waving over his face. “Kunikida-kun bought me the wrong brand. They don’t wrap right.” 

“Let me see?” You offered quietly, extending your hand out for the roll of bandages. He placed the wrinkled ball in your hand, (he must’ve balled them up in frustration), and you smoothed them out gently. Dazai sat in front of you in a criss-cross, his eyes following your movements as you started the end of the bandage at his shoulder. 

“I’ll start the wrap for you, then you do the rest yourself.” You said, holding onto the end of the wrap with your finger as you tangled the next wrap behind his neck and to the crevice of his other shoulder. You continued your motions for a bit, repeating it over and over until you got to his arms. You were practically red from the amount of time you stared at his chest while wrapping, but you kept silent as you handed the roll back to him. 

“Can you do the rest please?” Dazai pouted at you, thrusting the bandages back into your hands. You didn’t know why he wanted you to do it, he was already mostly wrapped in the bandages.

“W-Why?”

“Because I like seeing how flustered you get.” He said with a slight taunt and you dropped the bandages in his lap as you finished one loop around his arm. You couldn’t respond, a flush spreading throughout your cheeks again as you reached down to pick up the roll when you noticed the prominent bulge in his sweats. 

He was hard. In front of you, in the middle of your bed, and your heart skipped a beat. You felt the arousal slick right against your panties and you could barely contain yourself as your hand faltered whilst reaching the bandages. You must’ve been a bit obvious though as your chin was lifted up to look back at him and his dark brown eyes stared back at you with a glint of lust clouding the rims.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Dazai cooed, leaning in closer to you with a smirk. “Cat got your tongue?” 

“Dazai-san…” You whispered and he closed the space between you two, finally. You squeaked in surprise as he swiped his tongue into your mouth with ease and he pushed you back into the pillows gently. He climbed over top of you as he deepened the kiss, the bandages abandoned at his side, and you placed your hands on his chest. 

“This is okay, right?” He murmured into the kiss, moving to plant kisses down your neck and your voice trailed off as you attempted to speak. 

“Um, yes but…” Dazai came up from your neck to look at you with a worried expression. 

“What is it, Y/N-san?” He asked, about to get up but you instantly held him in place. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, you definitely wanted him, wanted this– but he had to know you were a virgin. 

“I’m a virgin.” You whispered, averting your gaze with the crimson tint in your cheeks coloring even more. “Is that okay?” 

It was more than okay in Dazai’s eyes, he’d show you– the girl he grew to admire from day one, all the ways he could love you and care for you. No one else had the pleasure to touch you as he did, he wanted you all to himself. Ever since he found you stranded from the depths of despair and nursed you back towards the agency with wide eyes. That’s why he was quick to close the gap between you two, he couldn’t stand to see someone else take you as theirs. 

“Of course it is.” Dazai assured as his fingers slipped into the shorts you wore, playing with the waistband for a moment. His other hand cupped at your breast lightly and he came down to kiss it over clothed skin. You held onto his back as he laid himself fully on top of you now, grinding into your thigh slightly. “Am I allowed to…?” 

“Yes, please.” You said and you felt him ruck up your shirt, pressing open mouthed kisses into the flesh of your exposed breast. Dazai sucked a bruise into it lovingly and you moaned out softly, his tongue lapping around your nipple. A small groan escaped him when you dug your fingers into his back, his fingers sliding through the wetness of the inside of your panties. They brushed against your clit and into your heat with acuteness and you couldn’t help the loud gasp you let out. 

“My my, aren’t we loud in bed?” He teased as he pulled away from your breast to tend to the other one, the sensation of his mouth and fingers making you see stars. “You precious thing– so quiet at the agency but when I do this...” He plunged a second finger in, emitting another loud whine from you, “You go crazy.”

You quivered under his touch as he curled his fingers into you, in and out, and you watched him bow down to kiss at your clit, promptly pulling your shorts and panties down in one fell swoop. He licked a fat stripe up the entirety of your cunt next to his fingers, savoring the way you tasted on his tongue with a grunt. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy now.” Dazai moaned out into you as your thighs squeezed around his shoulders and you felt the bed shake slightly and your hands gripped his hair as you looked down. He was grinding against the edge of the mattress now and honestly, you thought you were about to die right then and there; he was so fucking turned on by you that he needed the friction, any friction, and you felt another wave of arousal shoot up your spine.

Your eyes squeezed shut as Dazai rubbed gently against your sweet spot and your head fell back onto the pillows, your back arching into the delicious feeling. He moved back up onto you, his chin wet with your arousal and he wiped it off against his forearm as he bent down to cover you in hickeys.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked in earnest and you nodded with a pitch to your breath; he was incessantly rubbing at the soft spot now, like he was desperate to make you cum for the first time with someone. 

“D-Dazai-san, please…” You whimpered out, clutching onto the base of his hip and he immediately realized what you wanted. You wanted him.

“Ready now, my dear?” Dazai made eye contact with you as he leaned back and you swooned as he pulled out his fingers, your slick dripping down them. He parted your legs with his knees, wedging himself between you as he palmed at his clothed cock. “Just can’t wait, can you?” 

He pulled himself out of his sweats, stroking his length a few times as you ogled at him. He was big, much bigger than you expected and you nearly drooled out of habit. Dazai positioned himself against your entrance, resting his one hand on your waist as the other guided his cock into you, inch by inch. There was a hint of pain, the pressure surrounding your middle and you closed your eyes tightly. It went away as he stopped stretching you open instantly, searching your face for any more discomfort.

“Are you okay?” Dazai breathed out, peppering little kisses wherever he could reach to lull the pain. His hips jolted a bit as you squirmed against him, but he stayed still to let you adjust. His free hand came to caress your cheek, thumbing it softly as he made sure you weren’t in too much pain. “If it hurts too much, we can stop-”

“K-Keep going.” You wrapped your legs around him, letting him bury himself into you deeper and you both choked on a quiet whimper as he fully bottomed out. Dazai groaned out quietly as you got used to his cock splitting you nearly in two. You felt so full, the twitch of his dick nearly made you cry out in ecstasy. “You can move…” 

Dazai nodded into your skin, pulling out of you halfway, then rolling his hips back into you at a slow place. You gripped onto his back again, the bandages slipping loose as he started to fuck into you earnestly and you couldn’t hold back the whimpers that flew out of your mouth. Dazai’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth was agape from how good he felt and soft little ahs- filled the once silent air.

“God, so t-tight around me.” He stuttered out with a whine to his voice, rocking into you sensually as you became overwhelmed by such a throbbing feeling, sucking in a sharp breath. You felt the heat spreading underneath your skin, his cock hitting just right against your walls and you couldn’t help but arch your back up into him, your hips moving against his. The building pleasure spread like a wildfire and your thighs trembled, it wasn’t enough– you needed more.

“D-Dazai– Osamu!” You cried out as he nipped at the bud of your nipple harshly and he hummed, glancing up at you. His eyes were like the black of night, nearly enveloped in the drunk feeling and as you clenched around him hard while he languidly thrusted his hips, they squeezed shut and he panted out a few curses. 

“Shit, shit, fuck you feel so good...” He gasped out, pounding into you harder now and you felt your orgasm in the pit of your tummy. His fingers traced back to your clit, teasing it with each stroke of his cock and you writhed against him as your release hit you hard, stars imprinting on the back of your eyelids. You moaned out his name, pressing yourself further onto his dick as your walls fluttered around him and you barely heard his groan as he pulled out of you quickly. His hips stuttered and he spurted all over your tummy and chest with a broken moan, fucking into his hand until he came down from his high. 

“How was it, darling?” Dazai asked, out of breath as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. He wiped off his cum with some of his loose bandages and you vaguely understood you were going to have to restart your previous wrapping as you watched him. “Everything you imagined?” 

You didn’t answer him, too embarrassed by your moans from earlier. He hummed softly in your ear, planting a kiss behind it as you sat up in his arms. “You sounded like an angel, if that’s what you’re embarrassed about.”

“How did you know that’s what I was thinking about?”

“You think I don’t know you? You’ve always been shy, especially around me. And when you have such wanton moans…” He laughed to himself, helping put your clothes back on lovingly. “No, seriously don’t be embarrassed, you almost made me go feral.”

You shivered as he moved to the other side of the bed, playing back the moment in your head and your cheeks blushed red again. And Dazai, of course, noticed and teased you for it. “Still flustered?” 

That gap that had distanced the both of you silently closed as you grasped onto the feeling he gave you. You didn’t have to tell him how you felt, he knew. And he didn’t have to go out of his way to make a move when he already has. Everything was now perfect, the frost melting within the snowtops of the trees.

“Come cuddle with me, Y/N. It’s cold outside and I wanna warm you up.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦ #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 ✧ #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs #dazaibsd #dazai x y/n #dazai smut #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x fem reader #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x you #fem reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

[luvfy0dor]

Heyy, I was thinking about a concept with Fyodor (or whoever from BSD) having a streamer bf, but like, one of -those- streamers where every word they say can be quite questionable (in a “good” way/ironically). For some reason it amuses me to imagine it with Fyodor and Reader occasionally teasing him, calling him their ‘discord kitten’ or streaming for 5 hours (or more lol) saying nonsenses or playing video games instead of paying attention to Fyodor. What do you think?

“Get Off The Game ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu

Warnings;

Description; BSD men with a streamer!reader

A/n; these are in headcannon form, I hope that's alright!!! I think Dazai or Nikolai would be a better person to have this occupation w so I also did headcannons for one of them

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor thinks it's stupid at first, but when he realized you made money from it he learned to tolerate it. He wasn't too fond of the noise, though.

• I don't think he was too fond of the nickname 'discord kitten', always raising an eyebrow when he's called that, he also strongly dislikes brainrot cause what do you mean you're so sigma? No you're not, you're y/n. That's unrelated, but I thought I'd add that in there.

• "A discord what? Kitten? What even is that? I am nothing of the such."

• Catch him dead before he makes an appearance on camera, he much prefers to keep his business private. He doesn't mind you talking about him though, he loves that. He loves that people know you're already taken by him and that all those losers in your chat don't have a chance with you.

• Sometimes he'll watch your streams from a different room in attempt to understand your work and the art of gaming. He enjoys when you play horror games, especially the ones that get you thinking. He sometimes finds your facial expressions when you get jumpscared funnier than anything else in the stream.

• When it comes to the duration of your streams, Fyodor can entertain himself for as long as you need him to, but he can't help but feel like he'd rather be spending that time with you every now and again.

• He usually just takes the time to work on his DOA stuff, and occasionally he'll get so lost in it that he doesn't even realized you've finished with your stream and on whenever that happens, you make some tea and go to fetch him to spend some quality time together, whether it's you laying in his lap while you both read a book or having a conversation about whatever comes to mind

Dazai Osamu ★

• Dazai is your #1 supporter since day one. There's a conversation going on about content creators? He's immediately bringing you up. You need new items for your set up? He's manifesting that said items go on sale ASAP!

• Oh my god, and he LOVES it when you get recognized in public. He's very prideful of you and likes that it's only him and a select group of people that get to see the real you outside of the camera frame.

• He, unlike Fyodor, does have an issue with the long hours, so he busies himself with the ADA and otherwise to keep himself from walking in and talking your ear off while you play your games for umpteen thousand people.

• He doesn't despise being called a discord kitten, but it does confuse him a little bit. But whatever, as long as you have 'my' in front of any name he doesn't care.

• Dazai watches your old streams when he's bored and can't help but giggle at the out of pocket or questionable things you say. He likes to watch the compilations of you on YouTube, too.

• Sometimes he'll quote you out of the blue.

• He doesn't like people trying to flirt with you or talk to you on the Internet as any partner wouldn't, so he is in the comment section of every post reading through individual comments. Type guy to see '❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥' comments on your posts and reply '🧯🧯🧯'

• All in all, Dazai is well received by your fanbase, especially the ones who don't try to romance you and are normal. They think he's funny and a good match for you.

A/n; I hope it wasn't to short!!! I thought it was a cutsey idea, I think Nikolai would be pretty similar to Dazai in this scemario.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x you #fyodor x y/n #dostoevsky bsd #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor #osamu dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu #dazai bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x you

[monsterfuker3000]

Call Me ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡☏♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Jesus God, this took an embarrassingly long time. Not sure it’s my best work, most of this was written while I was stoned out of my mind, and when that happens I think with my pussy and not my brain, but I can guarantee this shit filthy. It’s not edited because I’m high again.

Warnings: NSFW, DUBCON, Ghostface!Dazai, fem!reader, p in v, intercourse, unprotected sex, (don’t do that,) creampie (don’t do that either,) uhh sub!reader, dom!dazai, there’s uhhh there’s knives, blood, brief mention of a cut, fake kidnapping, drugging(?) established relationship and use of traffic light system but when I say dubcon I mean dubcon. Look me in my eyeballs. Dubcon. Uhhh restraints? Idk it’s just a little bit depraved so don’t read it if you don’t want depraved. There’s aftercare though bc I’m allergic to not ending my fics on a soft note. Characterization in this is questionable at best. I love you mwah.

To @texas-bitch-yee @genshinsbiggestsimp @cupidszvlvr @dxzxii @vqmpwclf sorry this took so long 👉🏻👈🏻

WC: 4k words of Osamu Dazai lecherously taking you and you being lecherously taken ❤️

Leaves crunched under your feet as you ran, the cool fall air burning in your lungs. The ankle you’d twisted a few minutes previous was screaming at you, but only one thing was going through your mind.

Do.

Not.

Stop.

You knew he wasn’t far behind you, he never had been. Deep down, through all your attempts to lose the man you knew was trailing you, you knew damn well he was never more than a few minutes away. If you stopped now, he’d catch you for sure, and he had every intention of using that knife you’d seen glinting in his hand when he dumped you on the ground in this forest in the middle of nowhere and told you to run for your life.

You stumbled down a small hill, nearly losing your footing but staying upright by some miracle. You paused for just a moment to steady yourself, your heart rate spiking when you heard a branch snap in the distance. Whether it was the man you’d received a phone call from earlier in the night or some woodland creature, you weren’t sticking around to find out, and you took off again.

You’d been at home just an hour previous, curled up on the sofa of your living room as you waited for Dazai to come home. Your phone rang next to you; expecting your boyfriend, you answered without checking the caller ID, not seeing that it read ‘UNKNOWN CALLER’ at the top of the screen.

“Hello?” You chirped, expecting the gentle voice of your boyfriend Osamu on the other end.

“Do you want to play a game?” came the reply, the voice gravelly and unfamiliar. You frowned and checked the caller ID, just now seeing it wasn’t anyone in your contacts. Your blood ran cold for just a moment before you realized exactly what was going on, and you laughed.

“Osamu,” you giggled, “that’s the wrong movie, silly!” The person on the end seemed to falter for just a moment before gathering themselves and resuming conversation.

“Well, if you know so much about movies, belladonna, then tell me, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Scream,” you replied simply. “And, Osamu, you’re giving yourself away calling me belladonna like that,” you laughed. He grumbled something inaudible on the other end before you hung up, knowing this was all part of the game.

This had all been in the works for a couple of weeks now, beginning the night you’d popped the original Scream into the DVD player on a movie night with Osamu. He’d had his arm around you, so it wasn’t difficult for him to feel the way you tensed up a bit when the killer came on screen, nor was it hard for him to see the way your cheeks would turn pink when you heard his voice. An idea began forming in Dazai’s head, something dangerous that he knew both of you would like. He leaned in towards you, lips nearly brushing your ear as he whispered softly.

“My, my, belladonna, you seem to like what you see, hm?” he teased. Your cheeks reddened even more as you shrank in on yourself, declining to answer the question. “Well,” he continued, “what if I did something like that to you?”

You froze, then turned around to look at him, your eyes wide and unbelieving.

“Really?” you cautioned. He nodded, that signature smirk on his face telling you he was thinking devious thoughts.

“Really, sweet girl. Take you out to the woods where we can be all alone, let you go and hunt you down.” You shivered at his words, panties slicking up just at the thought. The two of you paused the movie and discussed in detail what expectations and boundaries you would have for each other, which is how you knew exactly what was happening when you received that call.

After you hung up the phone, it only took about five seconds for the phone to start ringing again, UNKNOWN CALLER scrolling across the screen a second time. You answered with a smile on your face, ready to mouth off again, but the voice on the other end beat you to it.

“You hang up on me again, I’ll gut you like a fish!”

You froze once again, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end. You knew this was a line ripped directly from the movie, but the way it was said sent shivers down your spine. The voice on the other end was rough, sharp, nothing like the Osamu you knew. For the first time tonight, you felt a stab of cold, genuine fear. The voice continued.

“Now, belladonna, I’m somewhere in your house. Do you want to guess where?” he urged. Your eyes darted around the room, trying to gauge whether Dazai could hide behind anything in front of you. But you’d hear him, right? That meant he had to be somewhere else in the house, somewhere he could call you from and you wouldn’t hear him.

“Tick-tock, sweet girl,” the voice on the phone purred. “I’ll give you just one guess. If you get it right, I’ll let you go. If you get it wrong, however,” he laughed darkly, “well, belladonna, you should start running.”

Your heart rate quickened, your palms slicking with sweat. Where the hell could he be?

“You have until the count of three, sweet girl.”

The kitchen? No, too open.

“One.”

The bathroom? No, you’d just been in there a few minutes previous and it was empty.

“Two.”

The dining room? No, you’d hear him from there. Ah! You knew where he must be.

“Three.”

“The bedroom!” you cried, just as the final number left his mouth. Then, silence.

“Tsk-tsk, oh, belladonna,” he sighed. “I thought you’d be better at this. How disappointing.”

Your hands shook, your blood like ice in your veins. You knew you had to run, but where? You guessed wrong, you had no clue where he was. You were going to have to take your chances.

You dropped your phone and started running toward the front door, immediately regretting not holding on to it, but knowing that it wouldn’t help you anyway. Focused more on getting out than staying undetected, you ran clumsily out of the living room into the hallway leading to your front door, your socked feet slipping on the hardwood. The front door was only twenty feet away. Fifteen. Ten. Five. You reached the doorknob, fighting with your other hand to unlock the deadbolt. Then, out of the corner of your eye, a flash of black and white, a rag thrown over your nose and mouth, wet with a faintly sweet smelling substance, and then darkness.

You awoke on the ground in a dark, unfamiliar clearing surrounded by thick forest, your hands taped behind your back. The only light afforded to you was from the full moon and the headlights of the dark SUV you assume you arrived in.

A man stood in front of you, slender and tall, dressed all in black and holding a large hunting knife at his side that glinted in the moonlight. His face was concealed by the traditional Ghostface Halloween mask. How original. How perfect.

You noticed that he’d been kind enough to change you out of your pajamas and into thick pants and heavy boots. A genuinely kind gesture, one that reminded you that you could truly trust the man in front of you. You held on to this feeling, knowing this would be the only mercy afforded to you tonight.

The man knelt in front of you, lifting the corner of his mask to reveal that he was, in fact, the one and only Dazai Osamu. His expression was soft, almost concerned.

“Hey, give me a color, angel,” he urged.

You took a deep breath. “Green,” you answered. Dazai’s mouth curled into a smile, one that once again sent shivers down your spine, and he winked at you. He readjusted the mask, completely covering his face again, and stood.

“Little bunny,” he purred. “Whatever are you doing in the woods all alone, hm? He knelt once again as he lifted his knife to press the blade to your face, softly enough that it didn’t break skin, but hard enough so that you could feel just how sharp it really was.

“Do you know what happens to little bunnies all alone in the woods, sweet girl?” You shook your head, not trusting your voice. “Sometimes they encounter wolves.”

You could hear the smile in his voice, it twisted your stomach but shot straight to your core all the same. He used his other hand to pop the button and lower the zipper on your pants, sliding his hand into your panties to press two fingers to your pussy, gathering the slick there. He sighed deeply, shuddering at the feeling of just how wet this was all making you.

“Oh, little bunny, you look so scared but you feel so wet,” he moaned, withdrawing his fingers to slide them into your own mouth. You took the hint and began to lick them clean, moaning at the taste of your own slick. He was kind enough to button your pants back up before flipping you over onto your stomach, caging you in with his arms. He cut through the tape binding your hands, just barely nicking your arm in the process making you gasp. He bent down to whisper in your ear again.

“It’s time to run, little bunny.”

He lifted himself off of you enough for you to scramble out from under him onto your feet, elbowing him in the process. He held his side, hissing in pain. “That hurt, bunny. I’m going to give you a thirty second head start. You better run for your life,” he growled. You weren’t sticking around to find out how serious he was, so you turned tail and ran into the darkness.

Which is what landed you here, stumbling through the forest on a twisted ankle, covered in scrapes and cuts from running through branches you didn’t see until it was much too late.

You stumbled into another clearing, your heart racing. You let yourself feel a bit of relief before you noticed the SUV in the clearing with you. The same SUV you arrived in, and the same clearing you’ve been running from. Dazai had herded you in a circle.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, knowing he couldn’t be far behind you. You scanned the tree line all around you, finally spotting the glint of metal to your right. You gasped, finding yourself unable to scream, and whipped around in the other direction, trying to get away as fast as you could, but the heavy footfalls behind you came closer all the same.

Two arms shot out from behind you, one on each side to wrap around your body. He broke your fall a bit, but wrestled you to the ground all the same, pinning you flat on your back with his arms once again caging you in and a strong thigh pressing between your own.

You finally found your voice, screaming in fear as you tried to worm your way out from under him. You worked an arm free and swung it at him in an attempt to get him off of you, but you only succeeded in knocking off his mask. The face underneath was almost as scary as the mask itself, Dazai’s eyes sharp and his cruel smile much too wide.

He pulled a short length of rope from his pocket, recapturing your arm and tying your wrists together in front of you. You opened your mouth to scream once again but he clapped a large, gloved hand over your mouth before you could even make a sound.

“Little bunny,” he taunted. “Looks like I caught you, hm?” He brought his other hand to his belt where he’d tucked his knife, pulling it free and raising it to your face. He pressed it to your cheek, making a shallow cut there, barely enough to break the skin, sighing at the tiny trickle of blood gathering there before removing the knife as you whimpered beneath his hand.

“I’ll do that again if you don’t keep quiet, bunny,” he warned. “I’m gonna take my hand off of your mouth. Are you going to scream, or can you keep quiet?” He took your fervent nodding to mean that you agreed to keep quiet, and he removed his hand.

Instead of saying anything, you immediately spat in his face, causing him to rear back on his knees for just a moment to wipe it away.

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves, bunny,” he said, flicking the wetness away from his hand. “I think it’s time you learn a lesson.”

He moved again, quick as lightning, to use his knife to cut a sizable slit out of your pants, waistband to crotch, before ripping them in half the rest of the way to hang loosely below your knees. He ripped your panties off of your body in one clean motion, and you flinched when the cool night air met your soaked pussy.

You thought he might cut you again, whining in confusion when he flipped the knife into the air, catching it by the blade. That confusion ended quickly when you felt him press the blunt handle to your pussy. You struggled uselessly against your bindings, but between the rope around your hands and the man never letting go of one of your legs, you weren’t getting away.

“Ah-ah, bunny,” Dazai teased. “Spitting on me wasn’t very nice, you know. I think you know that you deserve to be punished.” His voice was low in his throat, jarring compared to the usual gentle whispers he afforded you when he fucked you.

You shook your head, hard enough to make yourself dizzy. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise I’ll behave- fuck!” Your pleading was cut off when Dazai pushed the knife handle into you in one clean thrust.

You cried out at the intrusion, fighting it instinctively even though it hurt in such a delicious way. Tears collected on your lashes as you tried to keep from showing him you actually liked this, but unfortunately Dazai knew your every tiny expression like the back of his hand.

“Oh, belladonna, you like it when I fuck you with my knife, don’t you?” He purred. You shook your head again with a whine, not trusting yourself with words at the moment. “Yes, I think you do, pretty. Come on, tell me you like the filthy things I’m doing to you. Tell me you love it.”

You cried out again, tears finally spilling from your eyes as you admitted, “love it, love it, love it,” chanting it like a mantra with every thrust of the handle.

He bent down towards you again to whisper against your ear. “I know, belladonna, I can hear how much you love it,” he murmured, his breath hot against your neck. Whether he meant your cries or the filthy, wet sounds he was drawing from your pussy, you didn’t know.

His words pushed you over the edge of a cliff you weren’t even fully aware you were standing on as you came on the handle, slicking it up along with your thighs and Dazai’s hand.

“Oh, what a good little bunny,” he praised, an edge of malice in his words. “Such a good girl, cumming on my knife like the dirty little thing you are,” he continued, pulling the handle out of you and admiring the way it now glistened with your slick in the moonlight. He stabbed it into the ground next to your head, confident he’d made you pliable enough to not struggle as he flipped you over onto your stomach, prone with your legs together between his own. You tried to push yourself up on your forearms, but a large hand square in the middle of your back kept you from even getting your hands under you with any efficiency.

“What are you-“ your question was cut off when he slid that same hand up to the back of your head, quick as anything to press your face into the mossy forest floor, muffling any protests.

“Shh, no talking, bunny,” he soothed. You whined, the sound still muffled by moss. He laughed, the motion driving his hips lightly into your ass where you felt his cock straining against his pants, and you were so tightly wound that such a small action made your hips buck just a fraction of an inch.

Dazai noticed your reaction, of course, driving his clothed hips into yours much harder this time, taking his hand off the back of your head and allowing you to cry out.

“Fuck, please!” you cried, not sure what you were even begging for, pushing your upper body up onto your still bound forearms, high enough to twist your head around and allow Dazai to see the tears still rolling down your face. His cock twitched in his pants at the sight, and he rolled his hips into yours again.

You whined again and his patience began to wear thin; you heard the clank of a belt and the rustling of fabric behind you and you jumped, squirming uselessly beneath him until you felt the head of his cock brushing against your ass and you froze again.

“Wait, wait!” you cried, hands scrabbling on the ground beneath you. He chuckled deep in his throat and used his legs to push yours even closer together, tipping your hips up to line his cock up to your entrance. He pushed it between your thighs, gathering the slick dripping down your legs before pushing it into your waiting pussy with a sigh, ignoring your pleas all the while.

He worked himself in, inch by torturous inch, the gentle way he reached up to pet your hair contrasting with the harsh way he drove his hips into you as you cried.

Halfway in, your eyes flew open, the stretch becoming too much.

“Wait! Not gonna fit, ‘s too big!” you slurred, fighting a bit harder to get away, still to no avail. “Too tight like this,” you whined. Dazai tangled his fingers into your hair, yanking you back so he could speak directly into your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck.

“Little bunny, you think it isn’t going to fit? You always take my cock so well, and now that this pretty little pussy is drooling down your legs, you think I can’t fit it in? You’ve never been this wet before, belladonna,” he murmured. “I’ll fucking make it fit.”

He snapped his hips into yours doubly hard now, sheathing himself completely with just a handful more thrusts that pulled a genuine wail from your throat, your mind screaming at you that the cock drilling into you was tearing you in half.

His pace was breakneck, his hips colliding with yours so hard they were driving you inch by inch across the forest floor, matting your tangled hair with leaves. You shifted your hips a bit, keeping him from hitting quite so deep. He didn’t take kindly to this, letting out a growl and letting go of your hair to reach out and yank the knife out of the ground next to you, holding it up to your neck and nicking the skin there, whether by accident or on purpose you weren’t sure. You whined as you felt a thin trickle of blood run down your throat.

“Keep those fucking hips where I put them,” Dazai growled. You whined at him to please, fuck, just slow down! and he finally relented, dropping the knife and switching instead to rolling his hips against yours, driving the tip of his cock directly into your g-spot and pressing his balls to your clit with each thrust.

The sharp pain slowly began to give way to pleasure as your cries gave way to moans, each sensation so overwhelming it caused your legs to shake. Dazai took hold of your hair once again, this time much gentler, the action causing a stir in your belly and already bringing you close to cumming.

“Fuck yes, little bunny. You like this, don’t you?” he teased. “You like it when I fuck you nasty,” he continued, punctuating his sentence with a particularly slow roll of his hips that drew a high-pitched cry from you, tears still rolling down your face. “You gonna cum, sweet girl?” he urged. “You gonna cum from me taking you from behind, on the ground like a fucking animal?” he urged.

Your eyes rolled back, your breath catching in your throat as your hips stuttered beneath him; Dazai knew you were close, you just needed one more little push.

“You want me to fill you up, bunny? Fuck yeah, I felt you squeeze me just now, of course you do. ‘M gonna fill that soaked little cunt up so full of my cum, leave it to leak out of you since you’re such a filthy girl.”

His final sentence and a well-timed thrust pushed you over the edge and you came hard, whole body shaking as you gushed around him. You soaked his legs as well as your own, the rest of your cum pattering on the leaves below you as you cried out his name.

He fucked you through your orgasm, the relentless clenching of your pussy bringing him closer to his own. Your arms finally gave out on you, your head dropping to the ground softly, but Dazai was kind enough to turn it to the side for you so that you could breathe.

“‘M close, belladonna,” he whispered.

“Osamu,” you whined, quickly becoming overstimulated, “I’m tired.”

“Shh, sweet girl, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you,” he soothed, placing an almost shockingly sweet kiss on your cheek, a sharp contrast from the way he’d just been treating you. His hips began to stutter, sloppy and almost clumsy, before you felt him shake above you, spilling his load into you as deep as he could get it.

Dazai shuddered as he came, his arms very nearly giving out, but he wasn’t through yet. He pulled out suddenly, the sudden friction on your already sore pussy making you’ll help. He clumsily pulled his phone out of his back pocket, readjusting to take a photo of his cum already spilling from your pussy, then another, a selfie with his fist tangled in your hair, yanking your head up next to his as he smiled at your completely fucked-out expression. Satisfied, he rolled away from you before he collapsed to avoid crushing you. Flipping onto his back, he pulled his jeans back up where they belonged before gathering you in his arms, resting your head on his chest and wiping away at your tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Such a good girl for me, honey,” he whispered, squeezing you tight. “Anything hurt?”

“A-ankle. . .” you whimpered, deciding the twisted appendage was your most immediate problem after your completely abused pussy.

He clicked his tongue teasingly, assuring you he had an ice pack in the car, along with a blanket. He stood, gathering you up in his arms before starting toward the car. The passenger door had been left open, so he placed you onto the seat, wrapping you in a blanket before wetting a rag from a water bottle, wiping away at the blood on your face and neck as you began to drift off.

“‘Samu?” you asked

“Yes, belladonna?”

“I love you,” you slurred. He laughed softly.

“I love you too.”

WEEEEEHOOOOO do u feel it? Cumming in the air tonight?

#bsd #bsd dazai #bsd osamu dazai #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou sd #bungo sd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs Osamu Dazai #dazai osamu #osamu x reader #osamudazai #osamu smut #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazaibsd #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai x reader #spotify

[probablysimpledreams]

I Live For You (Dazai x reader: NSFW)

a/n: omg so happy I was stuck behind a train otw back to my apartment bc this idea came to me during it LMAO so enjoy this lil dazai piece GOD I LOVE THAT MAN GRRR

cw: reader has female parts but otherwise gender neutral, fingering, happens all on the kitchen table dazai a FREAK (affectionate)

wc: 536 (on the shorter side this time lol)

You quickly throw your keys and bags in the nearest chair as Dazai holds you by the waist, lips never leaving yours as he guides you inside the house. Between your busy work schedule and him having to travel for work a lot more recently, it feels like forever since the two of you had time together. Unsure of the next free day in either of your schedule's, you and your boyfriend made sure to pack as many activities into the day as possible. The day started off at your favorite cafe, followed by a walk in his favorite park, and ended with some retail therapy. Now the two of you were ready to spend the rest of the day relaxing and soaking up each other's company, and Dazai was going to ensure you were as relaxed as possible.

You shiver as you feel his hands run up and down your sides under your shirt. He's quick to undo your pants, allowing them to hit the floor before picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen table. He smiles up at you as you sit there, hands working just as quickly to get his shirt off and on the floor. His hands rest on your hips as he leans in for another rough kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, bandages slowly unraveling from his body. He deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue deeper into your mouth. You react by tugging at his hair roughly, causing him whimper against your lips.

"Someone's sensitive," you chuckle, pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath. You smile at him as your hands play with his hair. He flashes you a smirk as one of his hands that rested on your hips slide down your thigh, pushing them apart. His fingers trace the outline of your underwear, thumb pressed down on your clit as he begins slowly rubbing circles. You tug at his hair again, whine leaving your lips as he plays with you.

"Mmm~ just like someone I know~" he teases. God he loved watching you squirm. You drove him crazy, and he loved every second of it. You were his entire world, his entire reason for breathing. And the fact you felt the same for him only drove him more crazy. His eyes never left your body's almost as if he was memorizing the way you squirm under his painfully slow movements.

"P-please Osamu.." you whined, hips involuntarily moving in hopes of creating greater friction where you needed it most. "I need you." The way the words rolled off your tongue made his cock twitch inside his pants, desire growing more and more throughout his body just as it was yours.

"So pretty and so polite," he hummed as he slide down your underwear, letting them join his shirt on the floor. "How did I ever get so lucky?" You cry out his name as his fingers slide in and out of you, your head thrown back as his mouth peppers soft kisses against the skin.

There was no greater high in the world for him than this feeling. The feeling of having the entire world in his hands. The feeling of you needing him.

#dazai x y/n #dazai smut #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

[yawarakaizai]

pm!dazai taking reader on a date after school, but it’s somehow awkward! tried to get you a stuffie from a claw machine but failed miserably, so he shot the glass out of frustration.. something like that hehe ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

ⵌ HANGIN' OUT THE PASSENGER SIDE OF HIS BEST FRIEND'S RIDE

SENDER Reader (Fem) RECIPITENT PM Dazai Osamu (BSD) CONTENTS You were a horrible pair. You two were unlikely and the path ahead of you could have never predicted such thing to happen. You aren't sure why or how, but you found yourself the centre of Osamu Dazai's attraction. NOTE fluff, reader and dazai are 16/17, brief chuuya, jealousy, young love COMPANY No Scrubs

A/N wrote th is thro ughou t th e sch ool d ay ;3; forgi ve any mist a kes or rush ed writ ing !!! eeeeeeE EEEE i lov requ ests ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

It was embarrassing at this point.

You disliked bringing any sort of unwanted attention to yourself more than anything else. And yet, you owe it to the brunette by your side who attracted stares like a magnet.

" Owwh, fuck! " His drawn out swear accompanied by the stomping of his shoe against the carpeted floor. It's biometric, vibrant patterns splattered across a dark black background sickened you to stare for too long.

" I told you, these are a scam ", you attempted to protest against his insistence that he was sure to win this time, no take-backs. " Why not buy a ticket to the bowling alley instead of wasting it on these? " You remained temperate in opposition to his rowdy and indecent behaviour. You adopted the traits of an older sister, or a mother.

" No way! I spent too much to give up now. " Your head ached. " Look, if I keep inching it closer to the drop, I'll be sure to get it. "

And so, the poor joystick would continue to be abused, 200 yen being inserted into the comparator with every miss, Dazai's agitation growing with each failure.

It had been a sultry evening after school. Gathering your belongings and preparing to take the daily commute home, the pitter-patter of heavy footsteps ran behind you to reveal none other than Dazai Osamu.

He was somewhat of an enigma to everyone who knew him, even those that never exchanged a word with him knew of his name.

Dazai had a horrible track-record and even worse attendance. With a mysterious bandage over his right eye.

Despite his lack of punctuality and participation in classes, he not once has ever failed an exam. Many rumours circulated that he'd cheat - though no evidence of such was ever received. Others thought he must've slept his way to good grades.

Or, he was just inhumanely intelligent.

" Y/N! Y/N! " His ecstatic voice beckoned you to stop walking as he had finally caught up to you, bending over to catch his breath. " Let's visit the arcade together! "

You didn't know what possessed you to accept.

" Oy! Leave 'er alone, moron. Some people actually have work to get to after school. "

And there was his companion, Chuuya. Underestimating him is like a death wish. He was short. Horribly, unfortunately short. Sometimes, you'd feel bashful for the fact he'd have to look up at you sometimes.

Unlike Dazai, Chuuya's absence from school wasn't intentional.

No, not at all. Chuuya never missed a day of school on his own accord. His record full of missed days were from suspensions.

Often getting into fights with anyone, he has never lost a fight.

The duo had a dynamic you couldn't quite grasp.

And then there was you in the middle of it all.

Dazai had lured you into the friend-group about two years ago, when you were all put in the same base class and Dazai, in his extroverted glory, made attempts to suck up to all in class.

You listened to how the girls would swoon and whisper amongst themselves about the legend that was Dazai Osamu, and once he reached you, you couldn't be less impressed than what he had to offer.

" Oh, c'mon Y/N! It won't take too long, we never hang out anymore! "

His sad attempt at desperate puppy eyes lightened your day a little, so you thought you should humour him, just this once.

You didn't know much about Dazai and Chuuya's private life and you didn't pry into the territory either.

All you knew was that they were filthy rich and had a connection to the principal, Ogai Mori. Otherwise, they would've been expelled a long time ago.

" Let it go, Dazai. It's not worth it. " You put your hand on his shoulder as he leaned forward, nose barely touching the glass of the claw machine as he tried to focus on getting just what he wanted.

" But you looked at it! " He whined, digging into his pockets as the machine played a sound of defeat. " And? "

" And that means I need to get it for you! "

He insisted profusely that it'll be worth it, and you continued to doubt him. You've been standing by his side for thirty minutes at this point and not once has he won a prize.

You remarked to him that the game was purposely rigged, pointing out how weak the claw was and estimating the plushies within were weighing a little over the maximum capacity something so weak would be able to grasp for more than two seconds. That, and also how the claw would never close properly, inching in barely and dropping what toy it had luckily managed to hold onto.

And that degrading sound of humiliation. A squeaky, robotic coquettish voice repeating itself 'Better luck next time!' over and over.

Dazai was not losing to a machine.

Your stomach grumbled with hunger, and it was becoming clear that you both were growing with unrest at this machine.

" You kids still going at that? "

An arm propped itself on top of the roof of the claw machine, you looked up to see a worker had made his way over to you both. Dazai, did not look up from the game.

" I tried to get him to stop ", you mumbled, looking away from him. You'd always get shy at people older than you. You weren't exactly timid, but you were raised to be respectful. " He wants to win it for me. " It sounded oddly romantic when you put it that way.

" Yeah? You sure he can do it? " The man laughed at the truth. " So you two are on a date? " He overstayed his welcome and you began to wonder if it was usual for employees to wedge themselves into customers business.

" Yeah. We are. " Dazai answered for you, slotting in more coins for yet another try.

" Here, move li'l man, I got this. " Shoving Dazai away by the hip, the white-haired man. Begrudgingly, Dazai said nothing.

And almost with no effort at all, the man easily got the claw to clasp around the exact seal plush you wanted.

He must have been watching you both for a while to know what you wanted.

Although you kept assuring Dazai you didn't need it, you couldn't help the way your eyes sparkled as the man handed it to you with a smug smile.

" Oh! Thank you, sir! Thank you! " You took it from his hand with joy, looking at the fat cushion with adoration. It was simply adorable! You bowed your head repeatedly in gratitude, though felt it was simply not enough.

You almost forgot about Dazai until your ears deafened with the sound of a loud bang and the crashing of glass.

On impulse, you dropped to your knees with your hands over your ears protectively, unsure as to what just happened. Peeking through your tightly shut eyes, you saw that you were the only one to have dropped down and everyone else was as normal as ever.

Before you were even able to question, you uncovered your ear to hear Dazai converse with the man.

" How sad, I guess when you're making minimum wage you figure out how to make your job interesting. " Dazai cocked his pistol like second nature, and behind the legs of the employee you were crouched behind, you peered between his legs up at Dazai with wide, lost eyes.

Looking down at you, Dazai looked pissed.

" Didn't mean to scare you. Get up, we're leaving. "

The employee and Dazai seemed to know each other. You figured by the way the older man was cool about the whole ordeal, almost like he'd done everything intentionally.

You shakily rose to your feet, at a loss for words, and stared with astonishment as Dazai began to gather multiple stuffed toys from the now-broken claw machine and hold them in his arms after tucking his pistol away.

" But- you- the- "

You tripped over your words and found yourself unable to comprehend what had just happened.

" Not gonna run way with your Clyde, Bonnie? " The employee joked, stepping out of your way.

You felt this to be illegal. Maybe because it was. You did not want to aid in a robbery even if the employee was not actively stopping you. Before you could even act, Dazai grabbed you by the arm and ran ahead of you, dragging you behind him as he laughed, your other arm held tightly around the seal plush, afraid to let it go.

" Holy shit, I was so cool! " He shrilled, your shorter legs barely able to keep up with his strides.

" Dah-zai! " You panted out as he kept on running.

Your adrenaline rang in your ears and the heart in your chest beat rapidly as the two of you ran, jumped, hopped over valleys, onto the stepping stones of the river and through the bushes of the dark forest.

" Y/N! "

Dazai yelled out to you. At this point, many plushies in his arms had fallen, yet your intertwined hands never once budged open.

" Whah! Wh-What! " You tried to match his energy, but you were far too exhausted.

Finally, you both collapsed into the cold grass surrounding by large oak trees.

The night sky looking down on wild star-crossed students.

" I think I.. think I love you, Y/N " He said between deep breaths, both your limbs spread out as you tuned to the sound of crickets, the birds and the rapid breathing of one another.

You didn't know what you were thinking, or if you were even thinking coherently, though..

" I think I love you too, 'samu. "

©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3

#dazai x reader #pmzai #pm dazai x reader #port mafia dazai x reader #bsd x reader

[siienthiil]

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓪.

𝓭𝓮𝓯𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼.

contents.. yandere¿ dazai osamu x reader.

Choking.

You were violently choking on the hard wood floor, your body tilted to its side and your eyesight blurred by a mixture of dirt and blood that had infiltrated your vision. You had long ago coughed up all the rich liquid that was blocking your windpipe, which was a scare flavor of saliva and blood.

The air was vile, the smell so overwhelming that you could practically taste it on your tongue. You gagged, the unpleasant aroma of filth that has been accumulated overtime settling on your tastebuds and the smell adding to your migrane. Your head was pounding and you swore it was split open by the distracting pain that pulsated through your skull and to the back of your neck. Your leg too was also fractured, but to an extent, and bruises covered your body in various places.

But, nothing. Absolutely nothing would ever compare to the absolute fury Dazai unleashed on you after he found out about your escape attempt.

.

.

It feels like you're flying

Well, maybe you are by the way your body feels totally weightless as you desperately create distance from the prison you were once held in. Tears poured from your eyes like rivulets, a strange sense of hope swelling inside your chest. A feeling that you forgot had even existed and you sure as hell didn't want that feeling to go away.

You needed to get to where people were, you needed to blend into the crowd. You needed to get to the police.

The streets were no longer silent; distant laughter, people talking and the sound of motors running as vehicles drove up and down the road. Sounds you thought you'd never miss, but you did. Months of confinment and everything around you feels new. The air was cold and crisp and it seemed like yesterday that it was just the summer, yet it felt so long.

It doesn't take you long to stumble across a police station, the big and bold lettering on the sign catching your attention from a mile away. You waste no time to advance towards the building, bare feet crushing the cold snow beneath them with every accelerating step.

Until you're not.

Slender fingers wrap around your arm and suddenly your heart is in your stomach. The grip on your arm is animalistic and full of control, fingernails digging crescents into your flesh and you find yourself unable to move another step.

"where are you going?"

.

.

You're pulled back into consciousness by the sound of heavy footsteps reverberating against the walls and moving towards the door. Your heartrate immediately skyrockets, your anxiety alleviating your impending hyperventilation and cold sweat bathing over you. Your eyes shoot wide open and you fixate on the light shining through the small crevice beneath the door.

Quietly, you breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.

In through your nose,

out through your mouth.

The breathing exercise doesn't do anything to help soothe you and infact, you feel that your heart is beating so loudly that you think that he might've heard it to.

The footsteps come to a stop infront of the door and the air soon fell omnious and tense, hinges clicking and the door slowly opening with a loud creak. Dazai peered into the room, surveying it and noting every single detail, likely to see if you made another attempt to escape; his gaze lingering on the boarded up window. He looks away from the window and his honey brown eyes fall onto you.

Your blood runs cold and you'd hope that you would just go into cardiac arrest.

There was a slight tug at the corner of his mouth before his lips curl into a full blown smile, his eyes becoming downturned and his face molding into that disgustingly bright expression. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him and flicking on the light as he takes a step in. Why was he here? Why now? Is he planning to simply just watch you this time? Rarely, he would break a few of your limbs, but you didn't trust him. Not this time around. It rarely ever happens, but there's no guarantee where his head space is in, in that moment. He could suddenly burst and let all his anger out on you again.

He walks towards you and you narrow your eyes at him, an involuntary whimper bubbling within your throat. He kneels down infront of you and reaches his hand out to touch you, fingertips barely grazing your skin before you flinched away. The second you flinched, his heart twisted with hurt and rejection. He frowns and his hand falls to his side.

"You're still upset with me?" He says and he's not asking, he's simply making the observation. He finds it amusing how you think you could stay mad at him when he threw you into this room and only fractured your leg for precautionary measures. It'll heal, but it was much better than losing a limb, no?

You don't answer him and he sighs.

"I can't have you running off on me, ___. You understand why I did what I did, right? To...?" He's expecting you answer back, his gaze lingering on you and when you don't answer him, you can hear the finaltility in his voice. "To.. keep you safe. Now, say it back to me."

"Go fuck yourself."

Surprised, he leans back just a bit and raises a brow, his face slowly lighting up with amusement as his sinister laughter fills the room. He tilts his head at you, a toothy grin remaining etched onto his face as he looks down at you with mock curiosity.

"Where did you get the balls to speak like that? You're not exactly in the right position to be insulting me." He feigned arrogance, another huff of laughter escaping from his lips, "You are way too stubborn for your own good, gorgeous. You're gonna get yourself hurt if you keep this up."

Your eyes bore into him like daggers and you don't give him the satisfaction of responding yet again. Hatred pumped through your veins, fueling your rage and you wanted nothing more than to let out all your emotions on him. All the confusion, the hate.

The lack of communication from you made him frown once again, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"What's wrong? You were talking just fine a few moments ago. Cat got your tongue?" He tilts his head again, "You know how this'll turn out for you."

"Why me?" You croak out, managing to bring it upon yourself to finally say something that wasn't just profanities. He raises a brow.

"Why not?" He said, "You gave me a reason to."

"And what was that reason? I was there for you and you turned around and fucking kidnapped me!" Your voice is strained and it hurts to even talk, your voice coming out scratchy. Most likely due to the amount of coughing and screaming you did during the past couple days.

"If you're so insistent." Dazai chuckled, "You were too busy meddling in affairs that shouldn't have concerned you and look where being nosy got you. You were naive to think nothing would happen to you when digging around for information on the port mafia. I did it to keep you safe."

"To keep me safe? From what? The port mafia? Whatever they had planned in store for me would've been much better than the shit you've put me through." You spat angrily, slowly pushing yourself from off the ground and carefully scooting yourself back into the wall. Hissing in pain when you moved your injured leg to accommodate the position you were in.

"You wouldn't have liked what they'd do to you." He states matter-of-factly.

"You're a traitor and a fucking cunt. I trusted you."

"Is that all you know how to say? Profanities?"

"You were my boyfriend! You wouldn't have done this to me if you fucking loved me-" You should've known better than to think that he'd let you finish that sentence. Abruptly, his hand came up to have a tight grip on your jaw, forcefully pulling your face towards him and forcing you to look at him, a dangerous shadow casting over his features.

"I am your boyfriend and I do love you. You do not know the shit I would do for you and you'd certainly hate me more so if you had the slightest of clue of what I've done for you." His tone of voice sends chills down your spine and you find yourself not being able to hold eye contact with him for much longer. You close your eyes and you feel tears starting to form, prompting you to squeeze your eyelids shut. He doesn't take kindly to the action, his grip on your jaw tightening and with a slight shake of your head, you finally open your eyes to meet his gaze once more.

"Does it hurt?" He suddenly asks, causing you look at him with confusion.

"W-what?"

"This." He lets go of your face and stands up, towering over you and you carefully watch him as he takes a single step towards you. Your mouth runs dry and you want nothing but to disappear into the wall and to sink into the floor as his intimidating silhouette stared down at you. You don't even see him raise his boot before his foot came to press down onto your fractured leg, sending a rush of blinding hot pain throughout your entire being. Your mouth fell open, but no screams came out. All you could manage was a painful yell before your vocal cords decided to cease on you.

"Fuck!" You screamed out, tears finally pouring out of your eyes, "P-please, wait!" You gasp.

"What was that?" Dazai asked, putting more pressure down onto your leg. You wheeze and under the blurriness, you swear you can see him looking down at you with a great amount of pride and arrogance, his eyes sparkling with intense excitement. Though, he himself would like to believe he didn't like hurting you, but how else would you learn?

"I'm sorry!"

"Say that again, I didn't hear you." What an asshole, am I right?

"P-please, Dazai..I'm sorry!" Finally, he steps off your leg and you didn't even realize that you were holding your breath until his weight was finally off it. Crying, you reach for your knee on the same leg that was fractured, rubbing it up and down to try and soothe the pain as you rocked back and forth, trying desperately to distract yourself from the agony. Fuck, you missed being at home, missed the life you had before Dazai became a lunatic. But, it made you question, was your boyfriend always like this?

"I did warn you that you'd get hurt if you kept the attitude up." It is Dazai's voice that brings you out of your thoughts, but the agonizing pain was still there and honestly, right now you could care less about him being right there. You just wanted the pain to stop. To beg him to kill you, but you knew if you did that, than he's more likely to lash out. 'Kill you? Why? So you can leave me?' While savagely beating the shit out of you. If you had the strength, you would've attempted to kill him, but despite all the shit he's done to you, you still had those vague feelings for him. Or were they really vague?

He sighed and leaned down on his heels, demanding your attention as his hand reached for yours on your knee. You pull your hand away and he doesn't move or flinch, instead, his hand comes to where you were previously trying to soothe the pain.

"All I ask is that you listen to me, ___. Otherwise you wouldn't be going through all this pain if you would just fucking-" Cutting himself off before he could say something offensive. Which was laughable on his part. He surely had no problem using violence against you as a show of power, but when it came to his words? Oh, he was sure to be 'careful' with what he said when it came to you.

"I really don't like hurting you." He said, gently rubbing your knee. It takes a lot of focus to muster up the words through your fucked up vocal cords, but when you do, you dare ask.

"Then why do you do it?"

"How else are you supposed to learn if you can't obey what I ask?"

Anger just swelled within your heart even more. That was his justification for hurting you? Because you wouldn't obey him? He was never this controlling when you two first started out, but I guess it's true that you never really realize that you're in a bad situation until it becomes too late.

"I love you, ___."

"..."

"I love you too, Dazai.."

It's been 4 years(?) since I've posted lmao. This is a rewrite of a previous 'x reader' I wrote awhile ago. I am open to taking requests and it doesn't have to explicitly be yandere, you're able to request anything.

#anime #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs imagines #yandere x you #yandere #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #yandere dazai #Spotify

[bobattea]

I don't know if you are still doing BSD smut requests, if you aren't you can ignore this. 😅

But if you are still doing it, can I request a Mean Dazai brat tamer smut with fem! or AFAB reader. The main punishment is edging then overstimulation with a lot of begging from the reader as Dazai just laughs at them and is being a sadist. Sorry if this is too much, have a lovely day/afternoon/night!❤️

Pairing: Osamu Dazai x AFAB!Reader Warnings: NSFW, Overstimulation, Edging, Mean!Dom!Dazai Word Count: 1030

A/N: I’m gonna open my requests for a little…just for some bsd x male!reader request since there also is some lacking for male reader representation. I haven’t written a male!reader before but I wanna try. Can be smut, fluff or angst

You knew you were being a nuisance; you knew damn well what you were doing, and Dazai knew it too, but he wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing how much you were getting on his nerves and pushing his buttons. Clearly, your teasing has no limits today. Sending risque pictures of yourself in lingerie while he’s at work and acting the fool,

Dazai’s not giving into your teasing and testy behaviour; seeing the things you were sending him only made his cock hard, and he has dirty thoughts of what he's going to do to you when he gets home. Dazai is always one to slack off from work, but not today. He wants to tell you all those things, but you’d be getting what you want, and he’s not going to do that for you, so instead he replies back with “That's a pretty set” or “That's a good colour on you,” which only makes you try harder at this point. The consequences aren’t even on your mind right now; in fact, they don’t exist. Your teasing was brought to an end when you decided it would be a good idea to send him one last message that tipped him over the edge.

Around half an hour later, Dazai returns to your shared apartment. You didn't expect him to be back so quickly. Dazai chuckled darkly at you. His hand flew to your face and held your chin with a tight grip, pulling your face closer to his. “I’ve just about had enough of your teasing today.” His voice was low and threatening. A smirk played on his lips as he watched your face turn pink and your eyes widen. “Oh~ gone all shy all of a sudden.” You couldn’t form words; your brain is still catching up on you. You knew this was going to happen, yet it still shocks you every time. "Tick, tock, sweetheart.” His voice was still low as he looked deep into your eyes; you still couldn't speak. The excitement went straight to your core causing your panties to become wet. Dazai smirks at your lack of response.

“M’sorry.” You mumble quietly, not breaking eye contact. Dazai’s grip did not loosen, and he chuckled again.

“Oho~ we are way past apologies now, Bella.” Dazai still holds your chin and brings your face closer, crashing your lips together in a heated kiss. “You’re going to regret teasing me and being a little brat today~” A harsh smack lands on your ass, causing you to let out a yelp. Dazai’s smirk was still plastered on his face, satisfied with her reaction.

You already know that you’re in big trouble, so why not push a little further? Your hand trails down his shirt to his belt, giving it a gentle tug in your direction. Dazai groaned slightly now that it was your turn to smirk as your hand continued down towards his already hard cock, palming him through his trousers.

Dazai’s hand flies to your wrist, gripping it tightly. “Who said you get to touch?" He pulls your hand away from his cock.

“I did; come on, Dazai! You’ve been struggling your whole day; let me make it up to  you." You bat your eyelashes at him; he chuckles.

“You have two choices, darling; either I shut you up myself or you show me what else your mouth can do.” His face was close to yours again; you didn’t answer, only looking at him with wide eyes. “Good girl, now.” He points to the bedroom. “Get your pretty ass in the bedroom and on the bed.” Dazai orders. There was no hesitation; you made your way through the house, with Dazai following behind you.

You were usually quite obedient in the bedroom, but you woke up today and chose violence, slowly teasing your tongue along Dazai’s cock, then pulling away and saying that’s all he's going to get, which results in him using your mouth despite your little games. That's how you wanted it—the raw desire from Dazai. He had to take that power away from you, show you who’s really in charge. 

Your bratty tendencies only got you half to where you wanted to be: on your back with Dazai holding a vibrator to your sensative clit while he fucks into you, your legs shaking uncontrollably, needing your release. It's been maybe an hour or two, and you still haven't been allowed to cum. You get close, and Dazai takes it away instantly. He has that sadistic look in his eye again; he’s enjoying this too much.

“‘Samu…please.” Your pathetic mewls cause Dazai’s cock to twitch; he stops and pulls out, earning another whine from you.

“Aw, does my Bella want to come?” You nod in response, and he chuckles darkly again. “That's too bad; I’m not finished having my fun with you yet.” He thrusts back in, pounding slowly yet hard with enough force to make the headboard hit the wall at the same time. You let out loud yelps and moans every time.

"Dazai, it's too much! Please!” You screamed in pleasure. Dazai was overstimulating you; you couldn't focus on the sensations of the vibrator, his thrusts, or your own release. It was too much; between this and edging you, he really was punishing you for being a little shit all day. You clenched around him; the cause of your orgasm isn't clear; there's too much going on; you have no control over your body anymore; the vibrator stopped. Dazai stopped, you opened your eyes, and he had a new look on his face. It was terrifying, and the excitement sent shocks to your core.

“I clearly haven’t trained you well enough." His voice was dark; you didn't know what he meant at first. “You really do want to be disobedient today, don't you?” He smirks down at you, his tone condescending. He grips your hair and pulls you up to his face. “You come when I tell you to come.” You hadn’t realised you had come without his permission, but god did he sound hot like this; your body was already reacting to it.

"Let's try again, shall we, Bella?”

#bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #dazai x reader smut #osamu dazai fanfic #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x fem reader #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs dazai

[ritequettenoire]

After reading the Dark Era light novel...

I have thoughts about that infamous scene where Dazai punches and shoots at Akutagawa. I've seen a lot of talk about how mean Dazai was in that scene, and how humiliating it must've been for Akutagawa to be put through that in full view of a bunch of PM goons. Which is all true...but I haven't seen much talk about Dazai's perspective during that scene...

A few things popped into my head while I was reading the light novel version of that scene...

Firstly, Akutagawa does fuck up Dazai's plan, but it's so much more complicated than that.

Dazai's plan to capture the Mimic soldiers involves gassing an entire PM gambling den; presumably, he burns that entire revenue-generating business, because who's gonna go back to a gambling den where you might get gassed, after you got shot at by a bunch of mystery soldiers? Nobody. So, Dazai probably costs the PM a good deal of money with this ploy to capture the Mimic guys.

But it works! He catches them. So it's all good...until it isn't. Because one of them wakes up early from the gas and then steals a gun and shoots the other captives. But there's still one guy alive, so they still have a guy to interrogate. Still good!

Until Akutagawa kills the last guy.

Now, I've seen a lot of analysis about how Akutagawa is all about protecting people. He says specifically that he killed the last Mimic guy to protect the other PM goons who were being threatened. Which is all fine and dandy...in theory. But in actuality? Killing that guy ruined Dazai's plan.

And to rub salt in the wound--Dazai's wound--Akutagawa did this after Dazai spent countless training sessions trying to teach Akutagawa specifically not to do that. That being using Rashoumon in an offensive capacity by reflex. In a fatal offensive capacity.

Dazai specifically says in this scene that he's told Akutagawa again and again that he needs to start using Rashoumon in a defensive capacity rather than defaulting to killing people every time he's threatened (or his allies are threatened). This has clearly a been a focus of Akutagawa's training, and yet, at this crucial moment, Akutagawa still fails to break out of that reflex. He kills the attacker yet again, and in so doing, wastes all the effort that Dazai put into catching the Mimic soldiers.

So not only does Dazai's plan to interrogate one of the Mimic soldiers fail, but so does Dazai's plan to train Akutagawa into a more versatile agent of the PM, one capable of more than simply killing everything that gets in his way.

Dazai, whose plans supposedly never fail, fails twice in this one scene. As a strategist counterattacking Mimic, and as a mentor training Akutagawa.

We don't learn what's going on Dazai's head here, since the scene is third person, but I can imagine he's a little upset about all this.

Then we get to part of this scene that riles people up: Dazai punches Akutagawa and shoots at him. A few things struck me when I read this part.

First off, Dazai doesn't punch Akutagawa until Akutagawa talks back to him. Dazai explains to Akutagawa just how and why he messed up, and then Akutagawa goes: "Information? I'll just slice everyone of them into pieces until--"

That's when the punch happens.

Dazai doesn't punch Akutagawa for failing. He punches Akutagawa because Akutagawa rejects his lesson and disrespects him...in front of other people. There are other PM goons in the room, and Akutagawa blatantly disregards an important lesson that Executive Dazai is trying to teach.

If Dazai didn't punish Akutagawa for that disrespect, everybody and their mother in the PM would've known about it by the end of the day. That would've cost Dazai a lot of face. So he punched Akutagawa to keep up his reputation. And then...

Then Dazai shoots at Akutagawa. Not to kill him. But to force him to use Rashoumon reflexively in self-defense, rather than offense.

To force Akutagawa to make the move he should've made when the Mimic soldier threatened him. The move that Dazai had been trying and failing to teach Akutagawa in countless prior training sessions, presumably with methods less potentially fatal than shooting at Akutagawa's face. And it works...shooting at Akutagawa. He develops a new reflex to use Rashoumon in self-defense.

And Dazai actually congratulates him on that progress, if only in a bitter and facetious manner, because that progress didn't occur until after it cost Dazai the success of an important plan.

A plan that Dazai had hoped to use to help his first real friend (Oda) find his other, missing friend (Ango). A plan whose failure Dazai is going to have to explain to Mori. A plan whose failure is going to put a bit of a stain on his whole genius reputation.

Long story short: Dazai is really upset in this scene, but he only shows anger, partly to maintain face as an executive and partly because...well, it's Dazai. He wouldn't show his true feelings even if he could with zero consequences. He's too damaged for that.

We end this scene with Dazai threatening to punch and shoot at Akutagawa again in the future if ever fails in a similar way again. If he ever flubs one of Dazai's plans again, no matter Akutagawa's intentions. If he ever uses Rashoumon to kill thoughtlessly again, when Akutagawa is perfectly capable of using Rashoumon defensively.

So...is Dazai being abusive to Akutagawa in this scene? Well, yeah. Obviously. This is the mafia. Not a nice place. Punching and shooting a teenage boy is abusive under any circumstances.

But Dazai doesn't do these things because he's "mean." Dazai does those things because he's upset at his own failures. His failure as a strategist to capture and interrogate Mimic soldiers in order to help Oda find Ango. And his failures as a mentor to Akutagawa.

Dazai tries his absolute hardest to turn things around here. He forces Akutagawa to progress in his training, and he manages to scrounge some information off the dead bodies of the Mimic soldiers. But all in all, this scene still represents a multifaceted failure on his part (particularly in his own eyes, I imagine).

And personally, I find that angle way more interesting than just defaulting to "Dark Era!Dazai is cruel." There's so much to Dazai's character. Also, it makes the ending of the Dark Era story so much more tragic, since he also fails to save Oda at the end...as if it wasn't already tragic enough.

Damn...this got longer than I intended.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk?

K. Bye!

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dark era #dark era dazai #akutagawa ryuunosuke #bsd meta #bsd analysis #bsd light novel #bsd dazai osamu #port mafia #bsd akutagawa

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Genuinely don't think I've seen anyone talk about chapter 25 as a pivotal moment for Dazai so I'm gonna put this out here because I think his reactions here kind of negate that whole omnipotent Dazai interpretation which I hate with every fibre of my being.

Firstly, he's like, clearly caught off guard here. And don't try to tell me he wasn't, because this is just one instance of his genuinely horrified reaction to Q's release and when he realized what was actually going on with Atsushi, Naomi and Haruno.

Him being caught off guard carries significance here because you'd never catch him screwing up this bad later in the series - which is exactly my point.

I wrote a post earlier about how I don't think Dazai really is very much like Mori or Fyodor at all, and I stand by that, because their motives are different. Tldr for that post: Mori and Fyodor are ambitious and proactive, while Dazai is empty/numb and reactive.

What this leads me to believe is that Dazai is less a chess master like those two and more of a contingency planner - he's so good at "predicting" because he is uncannily good at thinking like his opponent and then planning for literally any possibility under the sun he can come up with. He's no gambler. Everything and everyone is practically (and unknowingly) micromanaged. It's almost paranoid in a sense, and I definitely think it's a trauma response to something he went through that we don't know about yet - after all, he was more than capable of this before he even met Mori.

...which brings to me to Mori's influence here. It's straight up like Dazai forgot how willing Mori is to gamble huge risks for a good outcome. It's like he forgot the mafia could be a real threat to his best-laid plans.

Going to throw out a wild claim here that I don't think is actually all that baseless - I think it's widely assumed that Dazai molds himself to what he needs to be (true!) but I think this misses the idea that he is also easily influenced by the mindsets of the people around him (see: the difference between Entrance Exam Dazai and early manga Dazai, the whole "the longer he was in the mafia the darker and more incomprehensible he became" thing from Stormbringer, how dark his eyes get in the prison sections with Fyodor, etc.). I could go on, but for the sake of not making this post too much longer, let's assume this is true because it suddenly makes sense as to why he failed to predict Q but predicted other events much later that were inherently more difficult to predict:

He was in the wrong mindset. He was thinking like an Agency member, and dare I say, he even got a little complacent. He started to get used to not having to manipulate every last variable - he was removed from a toxic environment - only for Mori to pretty much instantly fuck that up in one scene.

Let's also not forget what happened the last time he miscalculated Mori's intentions.

The consequences of this blunder could've been a lot worse and he knows it.

In his mind, thinking like an ADA member wasn't good enough to stop a potentially awful outcome - awful outcomes that could bring him pain. So, he goes back to what he knows - think like the demon prodigy. Think like Mori. Later on, think like Dostoyevsky. Because it seems to me that he believes as long as he is still working for the light that it doesn't matter if he uses these horrifically manipulative and inhumane methods of getting there. But he is wrong. Darkness within the context of good intentions is still very much darkness, and it hurts people all the same.

In the very next chapter, Dazai arranges Ango's car accident. And he only gets worse and worse throughout the series as he regresses back into his paranoid darkness that manifests as this omnipotent facade - his safety net that ultimately prevents him from developing in a positive, more human direction.

#bsd #bsd meta #bsd analysis #dazai meta #bsd dazai #genuinely wish when people talked about dazai's human qualities #that we talked more about his pain aversion #i really think it's central to every action he takes #he's guarded #manipulative #and always has a plan #how could this combination of behaviours not be related to his avoidance of pain? #storyrambles #god i hope this made sense

[mitsies]

synopsis: chuuya nakahara has a little crush on you. to his misfortune, dazai catches on.

sfw 15 era!chuuya x reader but chuuya's a little bitch LMFAO, mega jealousy, falling in love, in dazai we trust, confessions, fluff!

chuuya nakahara didn't get jealous.

he likes to think of himself as cool, and easy-going, and even-tempered. he's not too sure as to why everyone around him disagrees- he thinks he's pretty reasonable.

yes, he gets mad sometimes, but doesn't everyone? and it's not like it's his fault that everyone around him is insufferable and incompetent.

he's only 16, but somehow more capable than most everyone else in the port mafia- this generalization, though, doesn't include you.

you're a year older than him, and probably the most competent and normal person he's met thus far. you're quick-witted and sharp, with a killer smile and a silver tongue. you're agile and a good fighter, and you're kind- a trait he's seen a horrifying lack of in his new field of business.

you're a member of the flags, a port mafia subgroup that chuuya had happened to become close with in his brief employment. the flags consisted of unsavory characters and unlikable men- you were an exception.

eventually, though, he found that you accompanied him on more missions than you did with your own group. and surprisingly, he didn't mind it all too much. in fact, he even appreciated your presence and input.

so while you were one of the few port mafia members he didn't deem completely inept, that didn't exclude the company you kept. namely: dazai osamu.

he's not too sure when or how you two became close, seeing as you, a subordinate, would have little business with the port mafia's boss' pupil- but you and dazai had recently been spotted in each others' company more frequently.

and chuuya hated it.

you were so nice, and intelligent, and a being far superior to the likes of dazai, who was horrid and cruel in every sense of the term. but chuuya nakahara wasn't jealous. no, he simply knew that you deserved better than dazai- you deserved better company, you deserved him.

you and chuuya spent time together on missions a few times a week, sure, but never anything outside of business, whereas you and dazai hung out on evenings and any free moments in the port mafia's lair.

he despised seeing you and dazai laughing in empty rooms, and he abhorred watching the both of you converse in the corners of gatherings. he thought he did a pretty good job of hiding it from you, though.

he'd never bring up dazai to you, and you didn't mention him often either. but you seemed so much more subdued around chuuya and it grated on him to think that you might be more comfortable around his rat-faced companion than him.

and speaking of dazai: chuuya could hide his not-jealousy from you, sure, but keeping it from the demon prodigy was a whole other story.

in fact, he didn't even have a chance of keeping it on the down low. dazai simply found out, just like that.

"oh my god," he had started out of nowhere. chuuya and dazai were walking to meet a car that was meant to take them home from their mission. he'd frozen in his steps and his eyes held a familiar glow- a shimmer of condescending amusement.

"you like her."

chuuya sputtered. "i do not, you ugly horse. i don't like y/n."

"who said anything about y/n?" dazai's grin grew tenfold and chuuya lacked the words to defend himself.

from then on, dazai had been a relentless tease about the situation. after he'd caught on to chuuya's crush, his jealousy-not-jealousy was easy to pick up on.

"careful with your staring," dazai had playfully chided at some point, sidling into the seat next to chuuya, "your eyes might fall out of your head."

chuuya scowled. "i wasn't staring."

"so you were just watching me and her talking. and making a gross face when i put a hand on her shoulder. i see."

if they weren't in the middle of a crowded meeting hall with a surplus of port mafia members, chuuya would strangle dazai. "i wasn't watching anything."

dazai smiles. "careful, chuuya. some people are going to start catching on, and envy isn't a good look on you-"

he's promptly cut off by chuuya slamming his fists on the table with fury written all over his face. "i am not-"

he stops himself. you're hurrying over to where the both of them are seated, glancing around furtively.

"chuuya, dazai," you all but scold, "how about you save that for later? maybe when a whole room of people aren't watching?"

dazai stands from his chair and feigns a sigh, flopping onto your shoulder. you laugh and it sounds like music and chuuya feels a vein pop in his forehead.

"my sincerest apologies," dazai bemoans, "it's just that the little one here seems to bring out the worst in me."

chuuya's clenching his jaw so hard that his teeth might grind themselves to ashes, and you playfully shove the taller boy off you. "play nice."

dazai sits back down and you take the empty seat next to him, and chuuya looks straight ahead as he listens to the two of you blabber on about some nonsense.

he's mad, he's really, really mad because he can't find it in himself to insert himself into the conversation and you look so happy talking to dazai. and really, who wouldn't be happy?

dazai was charming and charismatic, even if he was a piece of shit. he was humorous and actually kind of easy-going (looking past the murderous tendencies) in a way chuuya only claimed to be.

chuuya was angry, angry enough to admit yes, maybe he was a little jealous of dazai's closeness with you. but he had no idea what the hell to do.

chuuya can't decide if he's lucky or unlucky when the answer falls right into his lap.

it's a sunny day in january, something rare and unusual. chuuya's day has been pretty normal for a 16-year-old boy. so far, he's overseen 2 jewel trades and still had daylight to spare. he's unhurried as he wanders the hallways of the port mafia headquarters, looking for something to occupy him.

that's when he runs into you.

you're leaning against the wall of a common room, tapping away at your cell phone with your headphones on. they're sitting on your hair oddly, making the strands stick out in an awkward way. he bites the inside of his cheek, despising how the littlest things endeared you to him.

he calls your name, and you look up. a bright smile forms across your face. "hey chuuya."

"hey. not doing anything?"

you shake your head. "nope. i was about to leave, actually, to go grocery shopping. you?"

"i finished early today."

"ah. cool."

"yep."

chuuya hates how stale this conversation is. he knows he can do better but the way you look at him ties his tongue in knots and he can't seem to muster the words he wants to. he thinks that if he were dazai, it would be easy to get out what he wants to say. luckily for chuuya, though, you do it for him.

"if you're not busy," you say, "would you want to come with me? i can make you lunch back at my apartment, if you'd like."

chuuya smiles and it takes his whole being to not beam at you with all his teeth. "that sounds good."

the walk to the local grocery store is uneventful, but a constant chatter is exchanged. you talk and chuuya replies, and he feels the ice in his throat melting.

this, he realizes, is the first time he's been in your company outside of an assignment. he thinks he loves it.

you're quick to fill silences, and there's never a lull in the conversation. you laugh and smile and you seem so genuine that chuuya's heart is thundering in his chest whenever you do.

the grocery store itself is small and quaint, with windows lining the walls. sunlight filters in and stains your skin with its gold. it's peaceable, chuuya decides, the way you lead him around and gather products in your basket. it's lovely, he thinks, whenever you look at him. he could get used to this.

but chuuya is not a lucky man, it seems, because a very loud and very familiar voice cuts through whatever you were saying:

"oh, i didn't expect to see you both here, outside of work! chuuya, i'm impressed, you finally told y/n that you're hopelessly in love with her?"

chuuya freezes, staring straight ahead at the apple shelves. you straighten, wide eyes looking at him. dazai is grinning.

"you fucking piece of shit," chuuya snarls, whipping to face him.

dazai raises his hands in the air with a serene smile. "not in public, chuuya, please! think of the children!"

dazai grabs an apple from the stands and takes a bite. he turns to leave without paying. "i hope your relationship is wonderful and prosperous!"

chuuya stares at his shrinking figure, hoping that the other boy can feel his gaze burning through his back. his endeavors are only interrupted by your voice calling his name.

"chuuya?"

his attention snaps to you, and he opens and closes his jaws like a fish. "uh, yeah?"

he hates how dull and hesitant his voice sounds. he hates how confused you look. he hates dazai.

"what was dazai talking about?"

chuuya puffs out his chest, sensing an opportunity to lie his way out of this. "i have no idea, i guess that blubbering idiot has finally gone fully insane-"

"no, tell me truthfully, please."

he resists the urge to curse, having forgotten how perceptive you were. "uh... well..."

"you like me?"

silence. chuuya looks at you. you look at him. he's not sure what else he can say.

"yeah."

you blink. and then you smile. "okay, cool. i like you too."

and just like that, you move on, continuing your search for the scallions. chuuya's still frozen, so he jogs to catch up with you.

"wait, so like," he spouts disbelievingly, "for real?"

"yeah."

"just like that?"

"yep."

"it was that easy?"

"probably!"

chuuya sighs deeply and you giggle. "chuuya, i'd have said yes if you asked me out the day we met, if i'm being honest."

he gapes at you. "serious?"

"mhm. and i knew you liked me, by the way. i was just waiting for you to say it. i guess dazai got impatient."

he is flabbergasted. "what gave it away?"

you shrug your shoulders, gathering a bundle of scallions and a few heads of garlic to place in your basket. "you don't hide your envy well."

chuuya huffs. "i don't get jealous, actually."

"sure you don't."

"really, though! i don't!"

chuuya protests but he's smiling, and you are too. you bump him with your shoulders and his hand finds its way around your waist.

okay, so maybe chuuya nakahara got a little, tiny bit jealous- but for you? he thinks it was worth it.

#bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuya x reader #chuya nakahara x reader #chuya nakahara #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #mom i love him

[rusmii]

꒰ Here With Me ꒱ - d.osamu

🐈‍⬛💬 : 15!d. osamu x fem!reader

💬 : whew I'm pumping out these dazai posts a lot. anyways expect a chuuya post soon! NOT PROOFREAD, just posted it.

🐈‍⬛ : not following the main story but has some elements of the original, dazai is a lonely mean dick, reader has this super ultra crush on dazai, one-sided crush, timeline jumps A LOT, up to reader to interpret who says the last line, open ending

💬 : getting rejected by your crush every day was a norm for you. so you turn into a cat to be his friend!

🐈‍⬛💬 taglist (free to join!) : @luvan1 @dollchuya @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash

"No."

People around you giggle amongst themselves as they pass by. A smile was still plastered on your face as you nodded your head and waved him goodbye. "See you tomorrow then, Dazai-kun!" That was a lie; truth be told you'll see him tonight.

From the corner of your eye, you saw how Dazai interacted with other people — happily chatting to people within his social circle, so unlike him — sure, he was introverted, but you knew that he could be just as social as he hated people.

As he hated you.

Walking home was always a boring adventure. Nothing exciting seemed to catch your attention, like how it does to a normal teenager.

When the sun had set, and people had their windows closed, you finally decided that it's time. Throwing a leg over the short concrete wall, you climb up the fence and onto the rooftop; a random persons rooftop but they didn't have to know.

Digging through your school bag, you pulled out a unique kitsune mask that a jumbo cat had given you one evening. You remember that day like it was the seven stars.

Rubbing your stomach, he whispers, "I wish life was just as beautiful as you are." What should have sent you into cardiac arrest made you purr instead.

You cling onto his vices — his already solitude atmosphere making you calm. "You know.." He says as he lifts you up to examine your face. "..You kind of remind me of someone I know," he continues his little inspection as he plays with your little paws as gently as he could.

You tilt your head, 'What does that mean?' And for some reason, Dazai feels like he could understand you. "I honestly don't know." Oh, who was he kidding? Understanding a cat? Yeah understanding their social cues, not their thoughts.

Dazai bit his inner cheek, your coat keeping him in a trance as he rubs your back. He looks at your eyes; so glistening bright, opposite of his. Full of life like a little midget he knows and.. well, someone who just won't get off his ass.

"[Name]..." He whispers before he could shut himself up. When he sees your spine perk up, he panics a little. "What's wrong?" He asks you, the chills still never leaving your body. Was he seriously thinking about you? What happened to him constantly saying he hated you?

And wanted nothing to do with you? "[Name]," Dazai repeats again but this time you don't give him much of a reaction, trying to act calmer; pawing at his shirt as soon as he says the name. "Meoow!" A long drawn sound escaped from your little mouth, and when another repeat of your name came up, you rub your head against him.

"[Name] huh?" Dazai ponders, "You seem to like that name a lot kitty," he pets your head. "Do you like [name]?"

Dazai smiles when your meow sounded positive. "Yeah.. I like that name too," He admits — which catches your interest real fast. Noticing your new profound interest, Dazai fake coughs. "Sharing secrets aren't my thing but...." He looks around his room, despite it just being you two, he eyes his window before bring his head down to you.

"I guess I can share this one with you," he smiles at you, placing you on your back as he gets up to close his window.

Each piece of foreign information made you happy to say the least.

Sure, it may seem a little creepy to have gain any new knowledge on someone's personal life this way, but that's what made you love him even more.

All the little oopsie daisies and the big successful achievements he makes are all worth sacrificing your human self for just a bit.

Putting the mask on your face, you jump from your two human legs and land on your four paws.

"Do you wish to meet your boy?" A voice from behind you asks. You yelp and jump up from the bench, a big cat eerily smiling your way. It was standing next to the vending machine and had a whole selection of kitsune masks right next to it.

You hopped from roof to roof, in the direction of his house. The outline of his neighborhood finally coming into view.

'What the hell did you do to me?!' You wanted to scream as soon as you saw the world get bigger and your hands more warmer, but what came out was gurgled angry screeches. As if it was mocking your current predicament, it points into a random direction.

"Go see your boy, and thank me later when you're satisfied."

Once you reached the premise of Dazai's house, you scoured around to where his bedroom was and started scratching at the window.

It didn't take long for your beloved to open his window with a platter of food already ready for you. "You must be hungry, huh?" He laughs when you jump inside and run straight towards the leftovers from his dinner.

"[Name], if you eat too fast, you'll choke and die!" The name. Your name sounds so endearing when he says it like that. "Actually, imagine a cat and a human dying together," he continues — rubbing your back.

"Would you be buried next to me?" He questions as you finish your meal, licking the plate clean. Once you turned to him, he picked you up and placed you on his lap as he sat on his bed.

He looks down at you with an expression you couldn't read. "Would you want to be buried with me?" He asks again, albeit a bit sadder this time.

"I do."

#im sorry to all my non a whisker away watchers out there this might be confusing for you #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #bsd x reader #15!dazai x reader #[🧁] •• library

[yokohamapound]

HEYYYY! When I tell you I pounce at every update. You’re legitimately my favorite Bungou stray dogs blog. Can I request Dazai and Fyodor with a famous s/o? I think it’s be interesting to see how they’d interact with it all 🫶🏾💕🦋✨

Thank you so much, lovely! I had so much fun writing these. I hope you enjoy!

Characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu

Contents: gn! reader, possessive behaviour, Fyodor being a little shit

Fyodor Dostoevsky

This would be…interesting. I’m usually of the opinion that Fyodor would want to squirrel his s/o away and have them all to himself, away from all the corrupting influences of the world, but this is not necessarily a given. He’s more than capable of dating whomever he pleases, as long as he is in control of almost everything. 

It’s possible that he may have targeted you deliberately for a relationship, using you and your fame as a stepping stone in some scheme of his. While he certainly didn’t expect to catch feelings, he’s not going to admit failure on his part or deny himself something that he wants.

He’s extremely camera shy. Fyodor’s been involved with (and betrayed) most of the Gifted organisations and governments in the world, and he’s, y’know, a terrorist, so he can’t exactly show up on the red carpet on your arm. 

This doesn’t necessarily set off alarm bells in your mind. As far as you know, he’s some Russian tech genius who just doesn’t want his identity made public. He’s not the celebrity couple type. You’re more than willing to put up with this if it means you get to spend time with those violet eyes and cunning hands. 

Your fans are a little obsessed with finding out who your lover is, and there’s a paparazzi who are on the hunt to get a photo of him and flog the picture for big bucks. But there’s only been a few sightings of him, and never anything concrete:

A pale hand reaching out of the limousine to take your hand after you’re leaving an event. 

Someone in a dark coat standing next to you, though you can’t see their face. 

A photo of you having dinner with a dark-haired man, shot from behind so no one can see the man’s face. 

Fyodor’s a master at covering his tracks, whether in real life or digitally, so he’ll remain your phantom boyfriend. I think he leaves these little breadcrumbs out in the world, when he could easily erase them, because he likes your fans knowing that you’re not theirs, you’re his.

The online trolls that will be present on any famous person’s social media should beware Fyodor’s wrath. He’s cold, calculated, and amoral, and he won’t hesitate to retaliate in petty, yet devastating ways, like ruining their credit, framing them for a crime, or even just airing their dirty laundry to all their friends and family. The best part? They won’t even know who or why it happened. But it happens enough that you get a reputation for having a scary fanbase. 

In reality, it’s all just one man who dabbles in cyber-crime as a hobby. Heh.

If you’re in movies, TV, or singing duets where you have to pretend to be with someone else, he won’t act crazy jealous. That’s far too brutish. But you will notice an uptick in his possessive behaviour. He always has a hand on you in one way or another, paying more attention to you, etc. Anything to bring your attention back to where it belongs: on him. 

If you ever ask him outright if he’s bothered by you being famous, he retorts:

“No, my dear. It amuses me, to think of all those people looking at you, crying out for your love and attention, wanting to be you. And at the end of the day, you come home to me. I have something that none of them ever will~”

Dazai Osamu 

At first, Dazai would probably have significant reservations about dating someone famous. A brief fling, sure, but a full relationship is something that’s gonna give him pause. He’d be that way with anyone, but even more so when you spend so much time in the limelight. 

He’s not worried about your rabid fans digging into his past and finding out about him being a Port Mafia executive. That shit is too well hidden for even the most determined netizen to find, thanks to Mushitaro’s Special Ability and Ango’s cover-up work. 

The simple fact is, Dazai’s a loner. 

You’ll see him interacting with the members of the Armed Detective Agency and seeming to be the life of the party at rare points, but if you pay close enough attention, you’ll notice he slips away a lot. Sometimes he’s gone from the office for a day or two. Once all the action is said and done, he’s vanished like a ghost when everyone is too busy celebrating. Being around other people is exhausting for him. If his character is anything like the main protagonist of No Longer Human, it’s because he spends so much time playing the clown and wearing a mask. Other people are difficult for him to interact with.

Being on the arm of someone famous brings a lot of attention his way. Sure, he smiles and laughs about all the guys and girls suddenly swarming into his DMs, trying to get his attention. (More than usual, that is.) But he won’t enjoy it if he can’t go anywhere without being mobbed, or if people expect him to be on TV with you. 

His good looks will get him a lot of modelling and movie role offers, most of which he’ll turn down. The only ones he accepts are for…malicious reasons. 

“Dazai, you’ve turned down every single offer that comes your way. Why’d you take that hair care one?”

“Oh, that’s very simple, bella. It’s because I knew they’d paste it all over that billboard that faces Chuuya’s penthouse windows. Now he has to look at my face every single day.”

“You’re evil.”

Dazai’s not the jealous type, really, so it won’t bother him in the slightest when the gossip rags publish lies about you flirting with this or that J-Pop star, or when your fans profess their love to you. He’ll pretend to be jealous sometimes, but that’s only because he wants to be dramatic and have you baby him.

He gets a lot of his own fans, even though he doesn’t really want them. It doesn’t stop him from dialling up the charm and sending them swooning, just for shits and giggles. Mostly, he’s sly enough to avoid them. 

They figure out where he works and turn up to the office, much to Kunikida’s chagrin. 

#yokohama pound #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #fyodor x reader

[akutasoda]

hii!! It’s me!!! I just witnessed a bird get stuck in a glass cage with an opening..walk out..then walk back in- 😭

anyway! Reader who is literally the most pessimistic (idk if that’s the right word-) person ever and is like ‘ew. Love. No thanks.’ But then will stare at Bsd men with the biggest heart eyes? And if they get caught their just like..‘I got distracted’ with the most longing voice ever?

-🌀Anon !!

you're seeing things!

synopsis - you always thought love was overrated but now you think you're just in denial

includes - dazai, akutagawa, nikolai, ayatsuji

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, pining, unresolved feelings, wc - 819

a/n: hiii anon hope your well!

osamu dazai ★↷

↪ you and dazai were quite the opposite people. for know personality's atleast. he often spent time flirting with women and the idea of love repulsed you. but despite that you got along very well.

↪it actually lead to dazai occasionally teasing you about your dramatic adversions to love but with some deep rooted curiosity about why the idea sounded so bad to you. perhaps something to do with not feeling worthy or simply not seeking that relationship with someone.

↪and yet it still came as a shock to you when you would catch yourself zoning out while looking at dazai with the biggest lovestruck smile on your face. you would shake yourself out of your trance to continue doing whatever while thinking what had gotten over you.

↪but you found yourself doing it more often much to your dismay and shock. which eventually lead to dazai catching you , he let it slip a few times figuring you were just thinking about something and completely blanked the real world. but after a few times he eventually asked you about what you were doing just to be caught of guard when you sighed and said that you had gotten distracted with the most longing voice he had ever heard.

↪oh boy he couldn't wait to tease you about this when you eventually found yourself figuring out what had gotten over you and realising what this meant.

ryunosuke akutagawa ★↷

↪quite the surprise came when it was discovered that you and akutagawa had built quite the close bond. but there was something about you two that just naturally drew you together.

↪perhaps it was like seeing the same attitude in different fonts. he had a hatred for a few things and quite the angry temper and you had a hatred for the idea of falling in love. but either way you both seemed to click and one time he admitted that you weren't that bad to be around.

↪however the idea of love that repulsed you deeply seemed to be creeping up on you. sometimes your gaze would drift to him whenever he was around or you simply would stare at him with awe struck eyes that felt like if they were in a cartoon hearts would be flying off them.

↪every time you caught yourself doing this you couldn't help but quickly snap out of it trying to figure out what was happening. and akutagawa became quite aware of your gaze often seeing you out of the corner of his eye staring at him. now he was quite blunt so everytime he asked you what was wrong, and every time was met with the same answer of you got distracted.

↪was it just him or did every time you say that siund more longing than the last? unfortunately neither of you seemed to bs good at figuring out feelings, but one of you better soon or someone else would intervene.

nikolai gogol ★↷

↪hanging around nikolai was always a wild ride. and to be frank, you always seemed to make his behaviour worse. you were quite the duo it has to be said. and he found your attitude toward love quite interesting and found your reactions to the subject entertaining.

↪often would tease you about if when you two were out and about and he saw some random couple. sometimes you did want to punch him.

↪but after hanging around the clown for so long and forming quite the close bond, eventually started catching yourself staring longing at him. the idea seemed outlandish at first, surely it was just unlucky that every time you zone out it's staring at him (and thinking of him).

↪he had caught you multiple times and had teased you about it each time but didn't miss the hints of longing in your voice. and the heartfilled look that he would catch upon your face.

↪how interesting to him that this whole persona was quite the two edged sword.

yukito ayatsuji ★↷

↪being a coworker a personal close friend of tsujimura, often meant you would accomplany her in her monitoring of ayatsuji. that was until you realised that the two of you had quite similar interests and naturally got along.

↪so you simply had became a genuine friend of his, much to tsujimura's shock. he found your little persona of finding love disgusting quite entertaining whenever the subject was brought up and he couldn't help but want to try and understand it from your perspective. and he could see it.

↪however whenever you two hung around each other he would sometimes catch you staring at him with, quite frankly, the biggest heart eyes he could ever imagine. now, he let it slip a few times before asking you about it.

↪you answer came short and sweet, that you were distracted. he could tell that there was something going on but he respected how you would handle it and never pryed any further.

#x gender neutral reader #x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #bsd nikolai #nikolai x reader #bsd ayatsuji #yukito ayatsuji x reader #🌀 anon↩