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muffinmots · 9 months

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fandom: bungou stray dogs | dazai osamu, nakahara chuuya.

summary: mori is a firm believer of the saying ‘keep your friends close, but your enemies closer’, therefore he marries his most prominent executive to the daughter of the only person that could endanger the port mafia’s existence.

wc: 3.8 k

w: all of their characters are in their twenties, light violence, mentions of blood, derogatory remarks and suicide since it’s dazai.

a/n: hi nonnie! you are sooo kind to me omg i love you so much, kith kith. i’m actually job hunting and it is exhausting, but i’m trying not to stress too much ᵔᴥᵔ

p.s. i'll do a separate one for chuuya since this got a bit too long.

“You’re getting married tomorrow”

Mori spoke from the place behind his desk, not bothering to look him in the eye and instead enjoying the view of golden light showering the city. Dazai shrugged, busying himself with a letter opener and tentatively pressing the tip of the blade against the palm of his hand.

“Don’t think it’s possible, I’m planning to drown myself tonight”

The executive frowned in annoyance, the blade was to blunt to even draw a bit of blood, much less to slit his throat without causing a bloody mess. He threw the useless tool away, the silence broke with it’s clattering against the wooden desk. “This is serious, Dazai”

“I know, I also got my sleeping pills. Not a big fan of feeling my lungs burn with all the water coming in”

Mori turned only in time to catch the small bottle Dazai threw at him. Sleeping pills made from belladonna, the dosage was enough to sleep but not to kill and he mentally thanked the person who sold him the most harmless version of the pills. He ignored the whine of his pupil when he pocketed the bottle.

“As you know there is a foreign clan that threatens to settle in the country.”

“Let’s kill them”

Mori sighed. “As much as it pains me to admit it, they have enough resources to crush the Port Mafia in the blink of an eye.”

The face of the young executive darkened, for someone who crave death so much, he hated the idea of dying by someone else’s hand. His name was enough to raise whispers and his reputation was built to make the most dangerous gift users kneel in surrender.

“So you offered me as the proverbial olive branch?”

“That is until you gain enough intel to bring them down from inside. Their leader is weak, you see, the whole organization is a family so when I told him the story of my young orphan son who walks a lonely path he couldn’t help but tell me how worried he is his little treasure is walking the same path. Apparently his only daughter hasn’t manifested an ability and that hindered his social relationships. The poor man fears his bloodline ends with her.”

A devilish smile adorned his features as Dazai realised his boss’ reasoning. “So not only a cripple but a misfit too” Mori sighed again and said something about watching his language but Dazai was too busy foreseeing the possible scenarios; surpisingly content with the new game. “Give me a month, then I’m killing myself on the sunny side of the caribbean.”

That is how the next morning you met your soon-to-be husband over breakfast. Rage still burning under several layers of self-control and your father’s stern speech.

We can’t let the family end with you.

He loved you, you knew that. But he also had an overly complex and old-fashioned mindset that made him have a poor concept of you as a person. Yes, he could spoil you rotten and give his own life to protect you but in his eyes you were a weak little girl you couldn’t fence for herself; this especially after your gift didn’t manifest.

At least, publicly.

Truth be told you could read people’s minds since you were eight years old. It was nothing flashy as the war oriented abilities that ran in your family but it was good to know who was a friend or foe. The only thing that stopped you from confessing your truth was your uncle’s lust for power and the several allies he made within the household; all of them coveting your dad’s throne as the patriarch.

So you remained silent, slowly honing your abilities and doing your best to delay the boiling rebellion. Your last strike was enough to make the rebels distrust each other, thinking a mole was among them. It should be enough to slow them down until you know how to handle the double-faced man in front of you.

You saw him studying you and you didn’t need to peek inside his mind to know he was smart as he was beautiful. Soft skin, delicate features and an untamed mop of raven hair.

Dress in black from head to toe and a few loose buttons from his white shirt he was ready to sweep a lady off her feet. With his charming slime and polite comments you could tell he was a master manipulator and well versed in the subtle art of seduction.

While he was busy ordering some sort of dessert he promised you’ll love, you tried to get a look on his thoughts only meeting radio silence. You wondered if you were too focused on your father’s thoughts to not hear anything else.

“Darling” the stranger called while offering you a spoonful of what looked like cheesecake “Say ah”

You complied, more in surprise than obedience. Swallowing the bite, barely indulging in its sweetness. “Dazai-san, don’t do that again.”

The young man pouted and tilted his head to the side. “Why not? We are getting married at noon so think of it as practice for cutting the cake, and please drop the honorifics. There’s no need for my wife to call me by my last name when it soon will be yours too.”

If only you hadn’t spent the last twelve years realising how deceitful appearances are, you’d fall head first for this boy. His voice was warm and inviting, his smile was kind but his eyes were the ones which gave away the act. Cold masked under curiosity.

Two could play that game.

“You talk of it so carelessly, we don’t even know each other's blood type and you are completely fine on getting married in a matter of hours” lying was best when mixing it with truth, yes you were furious but that could easily turn in embarrassment and self-deprecation “You don’t love me”

The small whisper reached Dazai’s ears just like you planned, his hand shyly reaching for yours. “But I could, love is something that’s built over time. We are not in love, yet, but I’m sure it won’t take long, you are beautiful, kind and-”

“Giftless”

Naive. Dazai was eager to know how deep was the hurt within your soul, coming from a patriarchal family with powerful gifts he could guess you craved praise and belonging. He wanted to poke the wound and made it bleed a little.

“There is no such thing”

“No, you must be aware that unlike my family I have no ability. So if you are marrying me planning to get some sort of human weapon I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

Dazai chuckled, the rich sound fueled by the hint of pain tainting your collected demeanor. “That’s irrelevant. Even a bit ironic if you squint.” he elaborates to your confused expression “We botch come from powerful families that will tear the other apart unless we marry, my…father keeps pestering me to settle down and judging by the way your father keeps looking at us I can tell he does a bit of the same. So why don’t we give it a chance?”

You frown, conflicted but not that angry; at least you were certain he didn’t know about the inner affairs of your family. “I don’t think we-”

“A month. We get married for a month and then both of us can find our peace in a better place”

Dazai smiles when you decide to shake the hand he was offering. If things turned out well, not only the Port Mafia will remain untouched but he’ll get some personal perks.

A double suicide doesn’t sound that bad.

The wedding went by in a blur of white lace, fragrant flowers and shaking hands with the never ending list of guests. What was supposed to be a small and private event turned in a flamboyant display of power and wealth, none of the families sparing a dime to risk being outshined by the other.

Dazai’s guests were intimidating at best, threatening at worst; it was obvious they knew it was a forced union instead of a joyful occasion. Most of them congratulated you with a quiet nod and muttered words; that is until your husband returned to your side. Then everyone turned kinder, smiled wider and bowed in respect, wary to not anger him and keeping a respectful distance from the newlyweds.

That sort of attitude can only be gotten by fierce loyalty or pure unadulterated fear.

Now the firm arm around your waist felt more like a slithering snake than a loving reassuring gesture. Your husband looks for your eyes when he feels you tense against him, an unanswered question only emphasized by a raised brow. Sly and demanding. His features soften in the blink of an eye but you’ve seen it.

If only a glimpse, you’ve seen the real him.

Before any of you can talk, your father and uncles come to give you kind flattering words and wish you well in your new journey. You relax a little when your uncles’ thinks about taking a break from the rebellious plans now that you’re married, thinking your father won’t be able to deal with the loneliness and step down on his own volition.

What an idiot.

“Enjoy the marital bliss before it fades” one of your uncles aggressively pats Dazai’s back and not to diminish your husband but the man’s ability was inhuman strength so you bring him a bit closer fearing the man will break his spine. To your surprise your husband isn’t hurt nor bothered. “One day you’ll wake up and wonder where the hot girl went”

Thank god your father has enough common sense to take him away before you stab him with your hair pin, your husband finds your fuming face amusing.

“Marital bliss, huh?” you roll your eyes and he brings you closer to his body as a response, it is your first dance as a married couple and Dazai thrives in the conflict behind your tight smile. He knows you are not as innocent as you like to appear. “If it helps, I promise I won’t turn into an ass like him.”

“Too bad it wasn’t in your vows”

There it was, the spark he was looking for. Dazai would be terribly bored if you turned out to be the spineless little girl your father sold to his.

He’ll have to test that spark himself that very night, the way you handle your first night together will reveal more to him than what you’re willing to give yourself.

You could be a coward or a strategist, maybe a bit of both.

Truth be told he wasn’t expecting for you to choose to sleep by his side, yes you had a honeymoon suite in the most luxurious hotel in the city but he could always ask for another room. You were unpredictable, and he liked that, it kept his mind going in a wits game.

Would you seduce him?

Would you expect him to seduce you?

Dazai wouldn’t mind either, you were attractive and your body moved with an innate sensuality that was too swift to be a performance. If he was honest, he’d like it very much. To have you naked under him…or maybe on top; he was versatile. The only thing he absolutely won’t let go was the opportunity to lick the side of your neck and enjoy the veins pulse with nervousness.

Yes, he might have developed a kink in a single day.

Unfortunately you come from the bathroom in your comfiest pajamas and Dazai knows that if he wants to do it he’ll have to make the first move. He doesn’t. Instead he changes into his sleepwear and takes his side of the bed.

Sharing a bed was an strategic move.

From what you could gather during the wedding, he was dangerous, ruthless and pretty much the second in command; so the safest place was by his side.

That is if he didn’t choose to kill you in your sleep.

“What are you thinking?”

“Nothing”

Dazai half supports his weight on his shoulder. “Come on, your thoughts are so loud I can’t sleep”

“Death” his brows raise in surprise.

And here he thought he’d heard everything in bed, this time he snorted. “Mine or yours?”

“My mother’s. She died giving birth, it would have been nice to have her around”

You really hoped he bought the lie, after all it was true. Your mother had died and it was just reasonable a girl missed her on her wedding day; you were fine though. Maybe you’ll be sad at your real wedding.

He softly caresses your cheek. “Are you okay?”

This man is dangerous for all the wrong reasons. His touch is addictive and his beauty is only increased by the half-lights of the room; just like the pied piper you could follow his voice to the ends of earth. Or at least the most primal side of you would.

“I think we should go to sleep”

For the first time you feel the heavens are on your side since your husband doesn’t seem to be an early bird. By the time you are having lunch he swings by the dinning room, hair still wet from shower he takes his place by your side with a salacious smirk and you come to notice the pleasure your husband has in teatrics.

“Such a pretty bird I see, up with the sun and ready to go” he pours himself a glass of brandy and laughs to your incredulous eyes “Just pretend it’s coffee. So, from now on I have to go to work and you can wait here as the pretty little wife you are.”

“No”

“Fieldtrip it is!”

That was how you ended with a position ad honorem right by Dazai’s desk. His office was huge, not on top but still had a nice view of the city. He even went the extra mile to give you your own desk and bookcase and a small plate with you name and ‘wifey’ under it.

One visit to the Port Mafia’s headquarters was enough to threaten your life at least five times a day. Whether it was a poisoned cup of tea, a ricocheted bullet or an ability user going berserk, chaos seemed to follow where you went. Had it not been for your gift you would have been dead by now, and Dazai was awfully aware of it.

You weren't giftless, that was a given he realised during the wedding. No mundane human was supposed to feel less than threatened surrounded by mafia without something to support oneself. The fun was in discovering what kind of gift it was and how dangerous was it for him to have you around.

It wasn’t healing since you got hurt quite often and the bruises took several days to go away.

It wasn’t clairvoyance since you should have seen him coming and yet you wore his ring in your left hand.

At first he thought it had something to do with meals or sunlight because ever since you were an ite you made sure he ate three times a day and took him out on walks in the city’s prettiest parks. Turns out you were a natural caregiver. Not just for him but for those around you.

He wanted to kill you, a lot.

But everytime the thought came by it slept away just as quick. You were starting to grow on him. Not because your daily walks or fresh lemonade, but for the quiet genius you held at hiding your skills.

He was certain you were the one preventing the inner revolt in your family for all of these years. But, how?

Dazai knew first handedly how innocent looking things carried dangers that never met the eye; and there you were, absently stirring your tea as if you couldn’t smell the bitterness of the poison. A quaint cup that was meant to go cold and be discarded just as the ones before it; he observes you.

Shameless eyes trailing up and down your figure. Hands busy, now scribbling something about this new hobby of yours. Hair a vivid proof of how merciless the yokohama’s winds can be. Brows knitted in concentration and had he looked closer he would have realised you were studying him as much as he was studying you.

Like a mute quid pro quo.

After your first week here you noticed your husband was the only person immune to your gift. People came by in a mess of personal thoughts and morality trials, you heard their weariness, their anger, their terrified inner voices everytime they reported anything to your husband. Especially when it came to your family.

He’d figured out almost instantly, it was almost scary how far their informants could go to the point that every secretary near him was aware of the uncovered war within your family. It took all of your self control to entertain you with anything that was flashy enough to seem harmless. At this point your only advantage was your gift and you weren’t about to let him know.

“Oh darling” he chants in a teasing fashion that can only mean trouble.

“Yes, Dazai?”

The mafia executive pouts. “Oh so dry, may I remember you that you are also Dazai now?”

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” his sly smile gives you the answer.

“I read somewhere that happy marriages spice things up with games every once in a while” sudden panic floods you from within. Yes, you shared a bed. But sleeping was the only thing you did and while you were aware he’ll bring up the subject sooner or later you never imagined he’ll do so in such crass way. Dazai doesn’t need his abilities to know what goes through your mind. “So let’s play a game, darling”

“Not interested, thank you.”

Your flustered expression almost makes him burst in laughter. “Come on, this is a good one, it called ‘find the liar’.”

Next thing you know, he’s parading you around the highest and the lowest of Yokohama’s society. Making sure everyone knows who you belong to as if your matching outfits weren’t enough. The game was just a fancy way to assess your skills in order to prove if you were as spineless as you looked. Had it not been for the prize you were going to let him win.

“Come on, you don’t even know what the prize is!” he whines, following after you like an annoying duckling; furious and just wanting to sleep you turn to face his shit-eating grin. He answers your unvoiced question. “Divorce. I’ll take care of all of the paperwork and play the part of the heartbroken man who couldn’t be enough for the love of his life. Then maybe I’ll hang myself…that is unless you want to join?”

Suicidal jokes aside it was a very attractive deal. Both of you knew that.

So, week after week, while you pretended to mingle and drink expensive liquor you profiled possible traitors of the mafia. Truth be told there was a leak of information and instead of going to the head of the operation, Dazai decided to have some fun and see what you could do with the right motivation.

It only took three parties for him to know the extent of your gift.

You were a mind-reader; a very good one.

Not matter the amount of people, background noise or boose consumed, you always went to the right direction. Making the right connections and whispering your advances to his ear so he could hear from under the booming electronic sound.

Under neon lights, drinking expensive champagne acting like a cute little party girl while holding that calculating look in your eye, Dazai had to admit you were hot. Hotter than you’ve ever been and definitely the hottest of all the damn club.

Realisation comes to him in small flashlights of uneventful moments by your side. Walks, meals, banter and a fair share of watching you sleep much to his chagrin. Fuck.

He’s torn between playing dumb or risking his trump-card.

Fortunately, the moment your lips graze the shell of his ear by accident the decision is taken.

Dazai wraps his arm around your waist in a possessive gesture, you shiver when he brings you closer. Feminine hands press against his chest in order to put some distance; he refuses. “Why don’t we give it a shot?” he’s come to like how expressive your eyes can be, and he tells himself it is the alcohol talking and not him. “Us. I keep your secret gift a secret and you keep mine?”

His face is close in a way it hadn’t been since your wedding day. “And what would yours be?”

“Maybe I like you a little too much”

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