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underthetree845 · 5 months

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Alrighty April, can you write a yandere! Chuuya x reader fanfic (hcs or oneshots whatevers easier) where reader is single (More of a hopeless romantic type thing) and she's talking and laughing with Dazai? Maybe Dazai will hold your hand or something and he snaps. Maybe he could like kidnap you, or kill dazai, or something? Idk, I'm just trying to give you ideas, do whatever you want with this request :)

Hey! I know this took me awhile to answer, I just had some other things I needed to push out of my drafts first, so I do apologize :') I'm going to tag you just to make sure you see this: @a-random-weeb And please let me know what you think!

(As previously stated) I have never written yandere content before, and I don't feel comfortable writing anything too dark, so I did my best with this. It might come off as a little more jealous/possessive, but I stuck to the prompt.

Dogs Are Better

Chuuya/Reader (oneshot request)

Cws: gn! reader, jealousy, yandere if you squint, reader is a dog person (it makes sense later I promise), dazai getting beat up (by chuuya), possessive! chuuya, unhealthy possessiveness, chuuya does genuinely care, implications of stalking, alcohol, drinking, slightly tipsy reader, reader gets a hangover, overly trusting reader, kind of kidnapping?

About 2.7k words

Summary: Chuuya is already overly protective of you, how would he react if someone threatened to take you away?

A/n: Please note, I did my best to altar their roles and limitations to fit the prompt, but this is not necessarily how I ultimately view Dazai and Chuuya as characters! Also- in case it's unclear- Dolcetto is a type of red wine.

Chuuya’s gloved hand grips his drink tighter. The bartender has been growing worried that it will just shatter under the pressure.

It’s been over an hour and you haven’t stopped encouraging Dazai with that stupid grin on your face. It’s nothing like the one you give him, the one he lives to protect.

You’ve got a heart that longs to be loved, one Chuuya wants to nurture. How can he make you understand that you don’t need to jump around from person to person to receive compliments and feel validated? Why can’t you see that he’d be more than enough?

With a slam of glass down on the polished wood, Chuuya slides off his barstool and makes his way around to where you and Dazai are seated.

It was a stormy day, but nonetheless, Chuuya decided to make a run to the little shop one block from his place. He was set on picking up some appetizers that would go well with the red Dolcetto sitting in his kitchen cabinet.

Leather shoes splashed in the puddles along the sidewalk, rain pittered against the black of his coat and umbrella. He held the plastic bag of gouda and roasted turkey slices with one hand, doubling up on the knot in hopes of preventing any water from leaking in. The shade of his hair was the only reason he didn’t blend into the bleary background. The city was a monotone watercolor painting; dozens of droplets falling from the sky, lights flickering on as afternoon turned into evening, the usual rush hour bustle muffled by the cold rain of the murky clouds above.

Anyone would’ve paused for a moment if they found a soaking figure crouched down on the sidewalk. Anyone would’ve tapped them with their foot to see if they needed help. Anyone’s heart would’ve melted a little when they laid eyes on the shivering puppy the person had been shielding from the rain. Anyone’s heart would’ve thumped a little harder making eye contact with you for the first time. Not just anyone deserved to.

When you refused to take the umbrella and leave Chuuya without one, a compromise was made that he would walk you home; somehow, that resulted with him sitting on your bathroom floor, caring for a wet puppy, and trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat with every laugh that spilled from your lips.

What kind of person halts everything, soaks themself to the bone for some random dog, and lets the first stranger to offer them an umbrella into their apartment? He began to question whether it was the puppy or you who needed more protection.

The redhead found himself wandering into your city block more often. He noticed your favorite coffee shop, and decided that it had to be added to his routine. Lovely little coincidences slowly allowed him to engrain himself into your everyday life. It was all for your own good, after all.

Someone getting a little too friendly on the metro? That same man’s body was found beaten half to death in an alleyway the next morning. No evidence, no fingerprints; the perpetrator used gloves.

Crying because of the things your friends say behind your back? Chuuya isn’t hesitating to accidentally stumble upon your hiding spot and offer his shoulder to lean on.

On a particularly windy day, his hat blew off, and you just happened to be nearby to catch it.

It had to be some form of fate. He was meant to find you and you were meant to be with him.

Such a precious creature you turned out to be; he found it sad that no one had ever bothered to get to know you properly. To understand you. Not like he had.

You were a drug to his mind every waking second and every night as he laid awake staring at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head.

Everything slid into place so naturally. He messaged you good morning and you followed through with a goodnight. On the best days, he walked back through his front door unable to wipe the lovesick grin from his face.

His presence gave you something solid to fall back on, it was nice.

He should’ve known it could only last for so long.

Some people are like parasites. They squirm around their miserable existence until they can find something lively to latch onto. They use it to fill their own void, draining the other being of its life and leaving it behind once they’ve had their fill.

“Oh, Chibi! Didn’t expect to see you here,~” the brunette chimes. Liar.

You spin around on your barstool and a smile lights your eyes up when your gaze lands on the redhead.

“Y/n-san and I were just sharing a drink. Do you two know each other?” Bastard.

“Chuu, it’s good to see you,” your voice melts in his ears. “Do you want to join us?”

“I don’t know why you didn’t introduce me sooner,” a grin spreads across Dazai’s face, “They’re an absolute treat.” He swirls the sake around in his cup before raising the glass to his lips. Parasite.

“Yeah, I’ll join you,” Chuuya replies politely, taking the seat to your right while Dazai is on your left.

“So how do you and Dazai know each other?” you question innocently. The two men make eye contact for a brief, unnoticeable moment.

“Work,” they both reply in unison. “We dealt a lot with trades between organizations,” Chuuya explains.

“Many jobs here and there,” Dazai adds. You nod your head in understanding.

“But enough about us!” a fox-like grin crawls up onto Dazai’s face, “I’ve barely gotten to know you yet.”

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about,” you reply with a humble smile.

Chuuya sighs and turns to the bartender to order another drink. If only he could make you understand.

“Nonsense!” Dazai rests his chin in the palm of his hand, “Why don’t we play a little game?”

“Okay,” you nod with interest. “It’s either or,” he continues with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “First question: Tall men or short men?” Chuuya chokes on his whisky. “Hmm,” you tap your chin in thought, “I don’t think height matters much to me.”

“Interesting,” Dazai folds his arms in front of his chest. Chuuya glares. You’re treading on thin ice, Mackerel.

“Next question: Do you think dark eyes or light eyes are prettier?” Dazai tilts his head, you stay silent. “Sorry, but I don’t think I want to be asked these types of questions,” you state politely, Chuuya has to hold back his smirk. “Ah, I see, I do apologize,” Dazai leans back, “I’ll change the topic. Cats or dogs?” He’s not worth starting a bar fight over, Chuuya internally screams, he's not worth it, he's not worth it, he’s not worth it.

“Well, that’s a tough one,” you hum, tracing your finger over the rim of your glass, “but I’d have to say dogs.” Chuuya’s ears perk up. “They’re so protective and loyal, and I’ve never met one that wanted to sink its teeth into me just because it can.” “I see,” Dazai smiles slyly, narrowing his eyes.

Chuuya sighs. You shouldn’t be wasting your breath on such a snake. Can’t you tell he’s done this a million times? The way his lips move, when his finger slips under his glass to set it down softly, how his eyes trace over your form like a wolf studying its prey.

“What about you, Chuu?” your voice breaks him out of his trance. He blinks at you a few times before raising his eyebrow, your giggle practically squeezes at his heart.

“Do you want to take some tequila shots with us?” you tilt your head. Chuuya raises an eyebrow. “Tequila? You don’t drink very often though,” he furrows his eyebrows in concern, “Tequila is pretty strong, you’ll end up with a shitty hangover.”

“Dazai says he can have a few shots without getting too tipsy though,” you reply. Dazai sits with a conceited smile.

Of course he can, that man’s alcohol tolerance is concerningly high.

“Fine, but just one,” Chuuya’s tone is stern, “two at most. You’ve already had three drinks.”

“I’m not even tipsy though,” you pout softly. Dazai chuckles as he raises his hand to call the bartender over.

It was clear from the start that you had no intention of heeding Chuuya’s advice. After two shots, you were giggling all over yourself and Chuuya had to keep a hand on your back to prevent you from falling off your barstool. “No, Y/n, give that back, hey! Dammit!” Chuuya attempts to swipe the glass away, but you’re just fast enough to steal his shot and throw another mouthful of tequila down the back of your throat.

“Mm!” you beam with satisfaction, “I told you Chuu, I’m fine.” The warm-toned lights of the bar seem to complement the hazy flush of your cheeks that bleeds into your smile. He adores the way you lean into him so trustingly. He’d probably have a smile similar to your own creeping up into his cheeks if it weren’t for the dark-eyed lynx sitting just to your left.

“They told you ‘Chuu,’ they’re fine,” Dazai’s lips form a smirk, one Chuuya wants so badly to smack off his face. He glares for a moment, but reminds himself of who his top priority is. He leads you to your feet by your forearms and catches you when you fail to hold yourself up. “Y/n, I’m going to take you home now, okay?” Chuuya’s voice is gentle, he slings your arm around his shoulder and turns to walk out the door. You look over at Chuuya and suddenly gasp, “We’re going somewhere? Where?”

“I’m taking you home, Y/n.” “Come on Chuuya, you’re really not willing to share?” Dazai calls loudly.

Chuuya pushes down the feeling boiling under his skin for your sake. You’re trusting him to get you home safely- admittedly your judgment may be a bit skewed at the moment- but still.

“What’s so special about them, huh?” Dazai prods and Chuuya’s grip on you tightens. You’ll never get to know. You don’t deserve to. That’s my right, this is my person. Who the hell do you think you are?

“I may just have to steal them away and find out for myself,~” Dazai smirks and Chuuya freezes. It’s only for a brief moment. He continues walking, but a dark cloud settles around his chest and in his mind.

“I’ll be right back,” Chuuya reassures you as he buckles you into the passenger seat of his car, “It’ll take two minutes, I promise.” “Where’re you going?” you look at him with a half-lidded stare, fingers still gripping the edge of his sleeve. “The bar has a bug problem,” he smiles deeply, “I’m going to go help them sort some things out.”

Dazai hadn't turned his head back after Chuuya’s fist came into contact with his cheek, the beginning of a bruise certainly beginning to form where he was hit. “Ouch,” Dazai keeps his voice steady, and his eyebrows lowered. He rests his hands in his pockets, ignoring the stinging pain in his back from being slammed against the wall in the alleyway out back of the bar. “I said, do you understand me, Dazai?” Chuuya grits his teeth, clenching his fist as he uses every drop of his remaining willpower to not crack Dazai’s head open like an egg. He takes one step closer.

“You really feel that threatened?” Dazai laughs lightly, “Aren’t I allowed to take an interest? They really are a very intriguing pers-!” Dazai grunts and his chest concaves as he feels the wind being knocked from his lungs. He looks up, back flat against the ground, Chuuya’s heel digging into his chest. “Something isn’t clicking in that brain of yours, so let me spell it out,” the mafioso glares, his frame silhouetted by the moon. “Y/n doesn’t need people like you in their life. The world doesn’t deserve them, I have to protect them from it. There’s no one else who can, don’t stick your nose where you don’t belong.” Chuuya takes a step back, allowing Dazai to sit up before turning on his heel to return to where you wait. Dazai’s scoff makes him freeze. “Shouldn’t that be something Y/n decides for themself?” Dazai’s voice echos, Chuuya doesn’t even need to turn around to see the haughty smirk on Dazai’s face.

In a split second, Chuuya’s heel comes into contact with Dazai’s other cheek, knocking the man roughly to the ground for a second time. “Tch, I don’t know why I even bother with you,” Chuuya snarls. Dazai stays low until his ex-partner walks around the corner and out of sight.

Dazai sits up and the corners of his mouth curl into a grin. He wipes blood from his bottom lip and chuckles deeply. “Damn, Chibi.”

Your mind keeps slipping you in and out of consciousness. One moment, you’re riding next to Chuuya in his car. He’s gripping the steering wheel tightly. The next, you’re in his arms, and he’s carrying you into a strange house. You accept whatever he puts in your mouth, swallowing it with the water he holds up to your lips.

You awake with a jolt, immediately laying back down when a sharp pain shoots through your head. You groan slightly, rubbing your eyes and trying to adjust to the morning sunlight. The first thing you notice is that you are still wearing your clothes from last night. The second thing you notice is that your shoes and jacket have been removed and placed on a chair next to the bed, and there’s a bottle of hangover medicine sitting on the nightstand to your left. The third thing you notice is that wherever you appear to have spent the night is definitely not your house. Ignoring the ache in your head, you throw the covers off and stand up cautiously. There’s something indistinctly familiar about the room’s scent, but you shake it off.

Creaking the door open, you observe the wood furnishings and step hesitantly into the hallway. Something in the next room smells heavenly- like a hearty broth. You can hear someone shuffling around. You tiptoe forward, but any apprehension churning in your stomach dissipates as soon as you lay eyes on the familiar head of red hair standing in the kitchen.

“Chuu?” you crinkle your expression in confusion. He smiles slightly and places a wooden spoon over the pot on the stove before looking up at you. “Y/n,” he turns down the heat and walks over to you, “How are you? Do you have much of a headache? I hope the medication helped.”

“Yeah, it’s not that bad…” you reply, scanning your eyes around the room, “is this your house?” “Mhm,” he replies, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “Well, our house now. You take a half step back. “What do you mean?” you question, “You know where I live, I have my own home.” Chuuya just shakes his head. “That isn’t going to work anymore,” he sighs, “I did a lot of thinking last night. Trust me, this is what’s best for you.” A shiver runs up your spine. The look in his eyes is so… impassive, nothing like the man you know. “What are you saying?” you shake your head slightly, “What, are you going to just keep me here against my will?” Chuuya steps forward again, his eyes boring into your own. “You won’t mind after a while,” he replies, taking one of your hands in his and brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I’ll give you a good life, I promise.” You try to pull your hand away but Chuuya grips it tighter. You’re both silent for a moment, the air in the room seems to still. “Chuuya, you’re scaring me,” your voice wavers slightly.

An invisible force pulls you closer to the man, you stumble into his chest and he catches you by the waist, using his other hand to cup your cheek. A cold, thick sense of dread is present in the back of your mind, but you’re having trouble focusing on anything except his gaze. For a moment, his eyes soften. He looks at you tenderly, like the Chuuya you thought you knew. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he speaks closely. You find yourself unable to move as he presses lips against your own, holding you close as if you could break at any moment.

A/n: I realized while writing this that this is actually the first time I've put a kiss into my writing! I am also open to feedback since I don't try to write this type of character/relationship very often. Thank you for reading!

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