#bsd angst

[aliyahgracedrawing]

A quick lil dazai painting I did

#bsd #my art <3 #bungou stray dogs #my artwork #my art #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bsd angst #dazai angst

[osachiyo]

˖ 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 ! — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai & jouno

𔘓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — n/sfw content (mdni), hurt + comfort, degradation, tit slapping, use of safe word, ooc in fyodor’s but idc let a girl dream, spanking, rough sex, face fucking, sadism, dacryphilia, toys, role-playing in jouno’s, overstimulation, reader doesn't actually use a safe word in chuuya's (its not possible with a mouthful of cock i promise), cunilingus, one of my only fics where fyodor isn't a toxic little shit so 🤷🏽‍♀️ ps. don't steal my headers !!

𔘓 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — here it is, the bsd version ! sorry for taking so long to finish this, there were some.. distractions 😓 i honestly did not expect this many people to request it *sob* anyways, happy reading and i hope ya'll enjoy ! NOT PROOFREAD !!

like this post? then view my masterlist for more !

“ ‘samu—!” You squealed, tugging on your boyfriend's hair as he moaned into your cunt, doing nothing but giving you more of that toe-curling pleasure.

"Mmh - don't interrupt my meal, darl'," he leaned back for some air only before spitting on your puffy cunt and driving back in. Large, bandaged hands were pushing your hips down on the bed to keep you in place— to let him have his favourite meal in peace, as he told you.

You couldn't recall how many times you came on his tongue— absolutely drenching his beautiful face with your juices, and he loved it. But you, on the other hand, were starting to get exhausted - no, you were exhausted, chest heaving as you tried to keep up with the hot coil in your lower tummy, threatening to snap any moment.

Dazai would know your limits if it were any other day - he'd know just when to stop, but today was exhausting for him too— and the entire day he was thinking of burying his face between his pretty little girlfriend's thighs - it never failed to melt all of his stress away and fuck did it work like a charm - all thoughts but the taste of your pretty cunt left his mind once he finally tasted you. Including the fact that you had your own limits and needed a break - no matter how pleasurable the feeling of his tongue felt against your swollen cunt— you needed a break.

You hesitantly moaned out the safe word, sinking into the mattress in exhaustion as you watch Dazai blink in confusion, before immediately pulling away from you. The bandaged hand that was previously pinning you down with fervor was now caressing your thigh gently.

"Are you alright, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?" He was calm, eyeing you for any sign of hurt or discomfort. You only shied away from his gaze, fingers fingers fiddling with the satin sheets as you shook your head - "no.. just tired, 'samu." He nodded, a pout gracing his lips - the pink muscle glossy from your combined slick and saliva, "aww, was that too much for my pretty baby?" You only rolled your eyes, playfully hitting his chest as he laughed, planting a kiss on your temple with a soft "I love you so much."

"I love you too," You giggled as Dazai buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the bruises he gave you earlier that night as an apology.

Chuuya had a rough day, his underlings being "fucking dumb and not getting shit right as usual," in his words. So like the good little girlfriend you were, you were generous enough to offer your hard working boyfriend some "stress relief".

That's how you ended up on your knees in front of the ginger haired man— who was still fully dressed, seated on the fancy black leather couch as you choked on his cock.

Loud growls and words of praise left his chapped lips in hurried curses, a gloved hand pushing your head down to take his cock in fully, basically making you deepthroat him. "God, pretty f-fuckin' girl, my good girl - such a good fuucking- argh—! fuckfuckfuck! Just like that baby, take this fuckin' cock.." He threw his head back against the headrest of the couch, hips now thrusting erratically up to your mouth, fat balls slapping against your chin as you gagged around him. Tears streaked freely down your stuffed cheeks, making him hiss out curses— fuck, you were such a pretty crier.

If he were only more focused and not drunk off of the pleasure of your warm and inviting mouth swallowing him whole, he'd notice your panicked whines, the way you dug your nails into the muscle of his thighs - scratching and trying to pull away from his cock, even slapping them in panic.

You couldn't breathe— you felt lightheaded and if Chuuya kept going, you'd surely faint from the lack of air.

As if right on cue, Chuuya finally remembered that you needed to breathe— hurriedly letting go of your hair and pulling you off his cock, his heart broke once he saw you coughing and sputtering on the floor, your face scrunched up in pain as air finally entered your lungs.

"Shit— doll, are you okay? Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby," he sounded genuinely guilty, and he was! He'd never want to actually hurt you unless you asked for it, and he felt so fucking bad. You nodded in response, leaning your head against his thigh as you finally breathed normally— tears, snot, drool and his precum dripping down your chin.

" 'm sorry for ruining this, Chuu. I know today was stressfu—" Chuuya cut you off with a click of his tongue, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown gracing his pretty lips, "What're you talking 'bout, baby? You didn't ruin anything," he sighed, "c'mere."

He put his hands under your arms before tugging you up in his lap, gently wiping your face with his gloved hands before pressing sweet kisses on your whole face while whispering sweet nothings about how much he loves you— how good you are for him. The ticklish feeling of his kisses made you giggle— sounding like sweet music to his ears.

After all, no matter how much he likes to see you crying and sniffling for him, he'd always prefer your adorable little giggles.

"Slap!"

You choked out a moan at the harsh impact of your husband's hand cracking down on your ass— his hand gently rubbed the heated skin as an apology, but you knew it was only a facade. "How many was that, dear?" He mused, tone nothing but unkind and condescending. It make you feel small, and ashamed— but you also couldn't deny the way your pussy gushed out more and more slick with each hit— and he made sure to belittle you for it.

"T-twenty six?" You stuttered, thighs twitching in anticipation as Fyodor ran a slim finger up and down your soaked folds, collecting the slick on his finger before shoving it inside.

"Mmh—! Fedya p-please.." You begged, which inly made him grin devilishly— god, he was so handsome. "Please what? You have to be more specific than that," he muttered as he shoved a second finger in your drooling cunt— his free hand kneading the battered skin of your ass but you could care less about the sting.

"P-please! Make me cum—!" You gasped when another brutal smack was landed on your poor ass, the soft fat rippling as his hand met your skin. "And who do you think you are to tell me what to do?" His voice grew stern. You flinched when he flipped you on your back, basically throwing you on the pristine white mattress of your shared bed.

You landed on the bed with a soft "oof!", it wasn't long before Fyodor joined you in bed, basically ripping your cute little babydoll dress off of you as greedy hands cupped your tits, his gaze ferocious— you've never seen him like this. "You're such a naughty girl, aren't you?" He growled— kicking your legs apart to nudge a knee between them - against your bare, sopping cunt. "Fedya—" You got cut off by your own pained yelp as Fyodor tangled his fingers into your hair, yanking your head back to reveal your throat— the soft and sensitive skin just begging him to bite it - mark you up as his.

"Hush now, slut." He scoffed, harshly biting down on the column of your throat— as you let out a pained gasp. It hurt like hell.

You don't know what happened but you didn't like this anymore, you didn’t want to be treated roughly anymore, didn’t wanna be called mean names— you weren’t even processing the harsh words coming out of his mouth, you just wanted it to stop.

“Red, S-stop— red!” You whimpered, sniffling as Fyodor’s movements came to a halt. He let go of his tight grip on your hair— instead gently scooping you up in his arms and cradling you, hushing your little whines.

He silently scanned you before saying anything, dry lips pulled into a frown. You certainly didn’t look hurt… was it something he said? “What happened, darling?” He questioned, voice calm and soothing— a contrast to your own broken one. “Too rough,” you pouted up at him, burying your face further in his chest.

Oh.

“I’m sorry, love. I should’ve been gentler, huh?” He brushed a stray hair from your face, before gently massaging your scalp— easing the burn from him pulling it earlier. “ ‘s okay, fedya,” you sighed, he was so good with his fingers (in more ways than one).

“I love you, dear,” kissing the crown of your head, a soft smile tugged at his lips. “I love you too!” You smiled back. A moment of silence passed as you stayed in his embrace, before speaking up again,

“You’re doing the dishes tonight, by the way.”

“…Fair enough.”

"You're so cute when you get like this," Nikolai cooed, voice drowned out by the sound of his hips smacking against your ass. He had you in a full nelson, your back flush against his chest, strong arms hooked under your knees to hold you up in the air as he thrusted into the warmth of your spasming cunt. "Ngh— 's too much - kolya—" you slurred, head falling back against his shoulder. God, his stamina was no fucking joke— you thought, jaw unhinged as you let out wanton moans. His thighs were absolutely drenched with a nasty mixture of your slick and his cum from the previous rounds— making a "pap! pap! pap!" noise everytime they met your ass. The whole thing was dirty, messy and so fucking lewd— his favorite combination.

"Oh hush now— you say it's too much but—" he gave a mean slap to your bouncing tits, making you squeal and kick your legs at the pained pleasure. "You're just gushing all over me— how am I supposed to believe it's too much for you, hm, dove?" His breath was hot against your ear, making you shudder— "ca— can't! please!" You sobbed, but your tears did nothing more but get him more fired up - shit, you looked the prettiest when you cried.

But the thing is— you actually weren't lying, it was really getting too much for you. But apparently Nikolai was too pussy drunk to recognize the exhaustion on your face. He was going too fast - too hard, you could barely process anything he was saying or even think straight. It was practically a miracle that you even remembered your safe word— "c-clown— clown!!"

It took Kolya some time to process the words falling out of your mouth— brutal thrusts coming to a halt as soon as he realized you just said your safe word out loud. As much as he wanted to ask you what was wrong, he knew he had to place you somewhere comfortable first - make sure you're doing okay. He gently pulled out of you with a wet 'pop!', hissing as your tight walls kept clinging onto him.

Being as soft and gentle as possible, he unhooked his arm from under your knees, flipping you to carry you bridal style - before placing you down on the bed and kneeling in front of you.

"Are you okay, pretty?" His voice was soft— a surprising contrast to how he was manhandling you just seconds before. You nodded, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks, which he gently wiped for you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he pouted - brushing some stray hair out of your face and planting a sweet kiss on your swollen lips. " 'm okay," you rasped, cringing at the way your voice cracked. Nikolai nodded, getting up and quickly getting a glass of water for you.

You gratefully took the glass from him, the cool water immediately calming your burning throat. "Are you hurt anywhere, baby?" He questioned, taking the empty glass from you, before placing it on the nightstand. You shook your head, "no, jus' tired, is all."

"So does that mean we can continue late—"

"Kolya!"

“Well, aren’t you just pathetic?” Jouno grinned, holding the wand vibrator against your clit while pumping the bright pink dildo in and out of you, making you squeal and kick your legs— hips bucking up to meet the toys.

“Please, officer— wanna cum s’ bad!” You sobbed, wrists straining against the leather restraints he had put on you. Jouno hummed, his hand speeding up, thrusting the toy even harder and faster in and out— as he rubbed the wand in circles on your throbbing clit.

“Oh, I bet you do— but, I don’t know if you deserve it yet..” he had a faux pout of his face, pressing the vibrator even firmer against your nub - making you see stars.

He had been at this for hours— getting you so close to reaching your peak before cruelly ripping it away from your grasp, only giving you fragment of the mind-numbing pleasure that you so desperately wanted to feel— and let’s not forget about the mean, degrading words falling from his lips - calling you a worthless slut, who’s only purpose is for his pleasure and his pleasure only. You felt like slapping the cocky grin off his face.

It didn’t feel good for you anymore— instead made you feel terrible, really. The continuous edging with the cruel words took a greater toll on you than both of you had imagined, which led you to eventually sob out the safe word.

Jouno stopped immediately after you blurted out the safe word, quickly but calmly pulling the dildo out of you before removing the wand, placing both of the toys on a nearby table.

He went over to unclasp your restraints, heart tugging at the way you sniffled and hiccuped— fuck, he took it too far.

A frown graced his lips once he felt the marks on your wrists from pulling at the restraints for so long— but before anything else, he had to make sure you’re okay. After all, your safety is the most important to him.

“Are you alright, darling?” He leaned closer, pulling off his slick-coated glasses and chucking them somewhere— wiping your tear soaked cheeks with his now clean hands. You let out a pitiful whimper before nodding, “ you’re too mean and— i still.. w-wanna cum..”

Jouno’s lips quirked up to reveal a cocky smirk— but he couldn’t be more relieved that you were okay - not that he’d ever show it. “Of course, pretty girl— my little crybaby wants to be treated nicely, hm?” He grinned, hand reaching down to flick at your nipple.

“Don’t tease!” You whined, but you still couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “Okay, okay— I’ll treat you like the princess you are,” He snickered, kissing the top of your head before picking you up— taking you to the bed to take you like he had been aching to all this time.

©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

#౨ৎ — archive・ #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd x reader smut #Dazai x reader #Dazai smut #Dazai fluff #Dazai angst #Chuuya x reader #Chuuya smut #Chuuya fluff #Chuuya angst #bsd fluff #bsd angst #Fyodor x reader #Fyodor smut #Fyodor angst #Fyodor fluff #Nikolai x reader #Nikolai smut #Nikolai fluff #Nikolai angst #jouno x reader #jouno smut #jouno angst #jouno fluff

[sillyd0ve]

I love thinking about angsty make-up sex with dazai.

both of you still have that knot on your throats, eyes red and puffy after crying in silence, far from the other.

dazai who grips you a bit too hard, leaving marks of his nails on your skin. so afraid of letting you go.

he can't even bear to look at your glistening eyes — he knows you're holding back your tears, he knows you're holding the sobs and turning them into low whines each time his hips slam against yours. he wishes he could be slamming his head against a hard concrete wall instead.

his body feels so good, while his mind is a complete and utter mess.

dazai doesn't feel like he deserves you, he only ruins you, he only makes your life unbearable, he's only a burden—

until he hears that soft voice of yours again, cracking slightly when you cup his face as desperately as he's holding you.

and when your lips slam against his bitten and bloody ones, and when tears finally escape from your eyelids, he knows you're sticking with his useless being at least for a little longer.

and that's when he cums, kissing you messily, holding you close with absurd force, sharing tears and saliva, moans and sobs.

god. how his heart beats faster and faster the longer you keep kissing him, keeping your legs apart, allowing his hips to keep thrusting his seed deep inside you.

after that, he spends his time lying on your chest —looking away from your face— letting tears run from his eyelids and onto your skin as you rub his scalp.

dazai won't say a word about the fact that he's crying, and he knows you won't either.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x you #bsd angst #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #osamu dazai x y/n #dazai.zip #need him so bad pls god #dazai osamu angst #dazai osamu smut #💫 — Messages from the stars ₊˚⊹⋆ #💋 — Sinful thoughts ₊˚⊹⋆

[kyoukamybeloved]

”In other words, the suicidal maniac wants to live. Is that it?”

“I’ve come to think it’s worth trying.”

"You used Corruption, believing in me? How beautiful."

skk webweaves: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

//strange gods - Roxane Gay// the portrait of a lady - Henry James// art from @/_mwk19_ on Twitter// say yes to heaven - Lana del Rey// the grudge - Olivia Rodrigo// litany in which certain things are crossed out - Richard Siken// art from @/suya1414 on Twitter// Kyoto - Phoebe Bridgers// we’re in love - boygenius// writings prompts for the broken-hearted - Eden Robinson// anyway - Richard Siken// art from @/AB0to on Twitter// things I never give myself permission to say - Chelsea Dingman// art from @/ssmi_0215 on Twitter// the whetting of teeth - Jamaal May// no light, no light - Florence + the machine// cosmic love - Florence + the machine// letters to Felice - Franz Kafka// art from @/rokkyun1 on Twitter// the sorrow festival - Erin Slaughter// norman fucking rockwell - lana del rey// remember my name - mitski// art by @bananana2217// townie - mitski// misheard lyrics - car seat headrest// you couldn’t just leave - Trista Mateer// art from @/T__rate on Twitter// your love finds it’s way back - Sierra DeMulder// a pearl - mitski// humpty - mitski// art by @yuyonyu// abandon me - Melissa Febos// where did you go - Hishaam Siddiqi// I should hate you - Gracie Abrams// art from @/qmthtdy on Twitter// killer - Phoebe Bridgers// a poem for Haruko 10/29 - June Jordan// crush - Richard Siken// pandemonium - Lauren Oliver// art from @/1110yu_ku_si on Twitter// catalog of unabashed gratitude - Ross Gay// steamboat - Adrianne Lenker//

hey remember when I said last part would be the final one? yeah uh about that, turns out I still have some inspiration yippee. hope you liked it :)

tags:

@dinosaur-mayonnaise @philzokman @amagami-hime @nnavia @homuncvlus @vinylbiohazard @bunglegaydogs @zamxii @ghostsinacoat @slug-behaviour @vivid-vices @atsuwushi @gorotic @pendragonstar @ricelover888 @oatmilkbasic @thou-shalt-cha-cha-real-smooth @the-gayest-sky-kid @lotus-reblogs @whiteapplesandblackblood @dazaiyuri @evermorehypewoman

#pls dont flop ill cry #bsd #skk #soukoku #bungou stray dogs #izzie posts #bsd s5 #dazai chuuya age fifteen #bsd stormbringer #skk angst #bsd angst #skk fluff #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd fifteen #bsd meta #chuuya nakahara #skk analysis #nakahara chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd soukoku #bsd skk #bsd season five #bsd season 5 #pls dont flop #skk webweave #bsd webweave

[getonite]

PLAYING : HOTLINE ! — DAZAI TUNES IN!

𝗧hinking about Dazai, your childhood friend and the one who shows his vulnerability only to you. Years after you've gone and left the Port Mafia and your terrible past behind, he knocks on your door. He looks downright terrible. His bloodied hands are trembling as he grips onto the fabric of Odasaku's coat, he's trembling, and on the verge of tears.

"Dazai, how'd you—" he practically leaps, his bandaged arms wrap around your neck, squeezing harshly, though you wonder how he found you... Ango.

There's not a word spoken between you two, but you know exactly what he needs. You pull him inside, carefully closing the door. "How about we clean you up first, okay?" You whisper. He stinks. His eyelids are puffy and there's red underlining his eyelashes. His hair is due for a wash with split ends, and he's pale. You guess he hasn't taken too much care of himself since you left. He silently nods, leaning his full bodyweight into you.

You bring him to your bathroom, carefully peeling the layers of clothing from him. The first to come off is the black coat he's regularly worn since he joined the Port Mafia.

His knees are to his chest as he speaks for the first time. "Mori-san's coat, burn it. I don't need it," he whispers in a raspy voice as if he's been screaming. You hum in acknowledgement as you set the dirty thing on the bathroom tile. Your hands carefully help him undress before starting to undo his bandages. "Years later and you still can't change your bandages like I told you to," he hears you whisper with a small smile. The bloodied and worn bandages fall to the floor as he hears the sound of streaming water come from the bathtub inches from him.

Once he's in the bath, you carefully rinse his body with warm water, lathering his new and old scars with soap carefully. There's a hint of guilt in your heart as you hear him wince, though this is probably for the best.

The pads of your fingers massage his scalp as you wash his hair, just like you did when the two of you were kids. You carefully trim his wet hair and brush it before getting him out of the tub, helping him dry off. You were likely the only person he could truly trust to see him so...bare and vulnerable. You couldn't exactly tell if the silence was tense or comforting, regardless you continued with is predictable mute moment. He always got like that when there was something wrong, you sigh.

"How about, I get you something to eat? I made some bento boxes, you can eat one and then brush your teeth, is that okay?" You speak softly and re-bandage his tender skin.

You smile softly at him when be finally nods. "Okay," you whisper and attempt to finish quickly before his mind changes.

As his hair dries it becomes its usual fluffy self, you'd assume hair matches personality; however, Dazai's eyes were close to dead. He only seemed to relax, feel different, when you touched him so gently. You quickly clean up and head to make him food. "You don't have to eat all of it y'know...just some, okay?" You whisper, setting the box in front of him.

He can tell your eyes are studying him as he eats, wondering what your Dazai from years ago has turned into. You look at him proudly when he finishes half of it before pushing it away. "Thank you," you whisper.

Handing him a toothbrush, you let him brush his teeth and fix the mess that is your bedroom, knowing he'll ask to sleep. And surely, 5 minutes later he stumbles to your doorway. "Can I...Can I stay?" You look him up and down, smiling softly. Compared to the terrible look he had when he first appeared at your door, he looks better. No longer like a man seconds from being a corpse.

"'Course," You smile, pulling back the covers, "C'mere."

He walks to the bed, crawling onto the soft sheets carefully. His brown eyes look at you expectingly, watching you get under the covers with him. He moves his body next to yours, putting his face into your neck without a word. "Ready to talk?" You whisper. His hoarse voice whispers a 'No.'

The calming effect your fingers have as they glide along him and his hair makes him feel like he's home. "Okay, just sleep. I'll be right here, I'm not leaving."

Dazai again, speaks no words, but his legs entertangle with yours. He remembers just why he came here. He missed you. Even if Odasaku is gone, he has you to make sure he doesn't go over the deep end. He'll save people, he'll grant Odasaku's last wish. But first, he wants to rest. Right next to his home.

"I promise, sleep." The man listens, squeezing onto you as if to test that this is real before drifting off.

For the first time in days...he's at peace.

A/N: dazai srsly needs a hug, 'n ill b the one 2 give it 2 him if no one else will! we need more fluffy fics of taking care of dazai, rather than dazai taking care of us. nyway, if u haven't signed up 4 the new tag list u totally should! there's new options n better format.

SUBSCRIBERS : @avatsu @sofliesy @tamreadfanfiction

#(💿) -> SNIPPETS! #(🎵) -> O. DAZAI #dazai osamu x reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x female reader #dazai x reader #dazai x gn!reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gn reader #gn reader #bsd fluff #bsd angst #dazai fluff #dazai angst #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs

[hyaha-ha-ha]

Ranpoe angst ranpoe angst yeayyy !!! ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

This is supposed to take place during Ranpo's first visit of Poe's manor

#bsd #bsd fanart #bungou stray dogs #ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo #edgar allan poe #bsd edgar allan poe #bsd ranpoe #ranpo x poe #bsd angst #bsd comic #ranpoe fanart #ranpoe supremacy

[little-blurry-stars5]

#bsd #skk #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #skk angst #soukoku #dazai x chuuya #bsd angst #soukoku angst #bsd chuuya #chuuya bsd #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #chuuya corruption #dazai osamu #screaming crying throwing up #moodboard #current mood

[theprettywriter]

The devil's darling : Osamu Dazai

Synposis : with your first visit to the port mafia's headquarters, you see the other side of your lover. The one that he never showed you before. It was as if you suddenly remembered that he wasn't just your sweet boyfriend . He was also the most feared man in Yokohama. He was also the youngest boss of the criminal organisation, the port mafia.

Genre/ warnings: port mafia boss dazai, fluff, angst, mentions of blood, knife, mentions of getting stabbed, slightly suggestive

A/n: this story doesn't follow the original beast au storyline. In fact I won't even call it beast au because everything else is same other than dazai being the boss.

Author's pov

You hummed a soft tune as you walked around the huge office, lightly touching the art piece that hung on the wall in fear of damaging it somehow. Now you know you just shouldn't touch the delicate art work but you couldn't help yourself. If you find something fascinating then you just need to feel it once. And you also know that your boyfriend wouldn't blink an eye even if the art piece got damaged. He's more than capable of buying a few hundreds of the same piece if he wants but you'd rather live without the guilt of ruining it.

Deciding that you should probably stop touching it, you took a step back, opting to admire it from a distance. "sweetheart" you perked up at the sound of his voice and turned around, your lips curling up in a soft smile as your eyes met. "hmm?" you hummed silently asking him to continue.

Dazai placed the papers he was going through down on his desk, looking at you with soft eyes "are you feeling bored, my love?" he mumbled and you quickly shook your head. Well you admit that you were starting to feel a tiny bit bored with him silently working on some papers but you didn't want to disturb him so you opted to look around his office to pass some time. You know he's a busy man so you cherished every moment with him that you can spend in comfortable silence.

He looked at you silently for a moment before pushing his chair back slightly and extending a hand towards you "come here angel" your smile widened and you skipped towards him, placing your hand on his. A small smile tugged on his lips as he pulled you on his lap, kissing your wrist when you cupped his face with soft hands.

He hummed raspily when you leaned forward to press a quick kiss on his lips, his one arm wrapping around your waist while the other tucked your hair behind your ear "hey samu" you whispered against his lips before pulling back, giggling when his lips chased yours "hey angel" he mumbled pulling you in another kiss "you know I can tell when you're getting bored, sweetheart. You keep looking at the clock every now and then."

You scrunched your nose smiling sheepishly. Of course he'd catch on "okay I am feeling a little bored but it's fine. Your office is so big I'm sure I'll find something interesting in here" you said tucking a side of his hair behind his hair. You love it when he tucks his hair behind his ear. He hums as his hand slips inside your shirt, lightly caressing your bare waist "do you want to go back home? I can call a car for you -" before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off quickly shaking your head "no no I'm fine. I want to stay here with you. I can wait until you finish your work and we can go home together " you paused before adding "b-but I can go back if I'm disturbing you"

He tched pulling you closer "nonsense. You're never disturbing me, angel. I'm happy that you're here. I was asking in case you wanted to go back" you smiled at that, kissing his nose "then we'll go back together" he smiled softly with his hand going to the back of your neck. Pulling you towards him, his lips brushed against your forehead before he pressed his lips on yours in a deep kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back softly.

At the same time, someone knocked on the door and you pulled back startled, going to get up but dazai didn't let you. You looked at him surprised when his grip around your waist tightened and he held you firmly on his lap while someone entered the room "boss" Nakahara Chuuya's voice sounded in the room and you turned your head to see chuuya standing there with his head bowed and his one hand holding his hat against his chest "they've been taken care of as you asked" who was taken care of? You'll never know and you don't even want to know.

You were just here to spend some time with your lover "good. Now chuuya, you've come right in time" chuuya looked up, silently asking dazai to give him his next orders "see, this is the first time my sweet girl has visited the headquarters and she's started to feel bored so would you mind giving her a tour around the building while I finish my work?" you looked at dazai surprised while chuuya nodded "of course not. I'd be happy to" "samu" you whispered tugging his coat slightly to make him look at you "I'm fine staying here" dazai smiled, running his thumb across your bottom lip "I know your curious little brain is dying to look around the building, sweetheart. So go with chuuya and I promise I'll be done by the time you come back. Then we'll go home"

You hummed thinking for a moment before nodding and looking at him with a smile. He raised an eyebrow when he recognized the mischievous glint in your doe eyes . You bite his thumb lightly, giggling softly when you saw his eyes darken a shade before getting off of his lap and pressing a kiss on his forehead "then I'll see you later Samu" he hummed, squeezing your hip and watched as you turned around and started walking towards the door.

You said a small thank you to chuuya as he held the door open for you and turned around one last time to wave at dazai, smiling as he waved back. You fiddled with your fingers awkwardly as you both passed by the multiple guards whose jobs were to guard the boss's office. Each one bowed towards you and you almost told them to stop bowing so much. You weren't used to it, unlike dazai who wouldn't even glance at them.

The long walk towards the elevator was silent with chuuya walking besides you in a respectful distance. You'd seen him many times before. You're aware that he's dazai's right hand man so you've seen him besides dazai multiple times but you've never talked to him properly so you were a little scared that the whole time will be spent in awkward silence.

So when you both reached the elevator and he pressed the button, you finally decided to break the silence "I hope I'm not disturbing you while you're busy, nakahara san" Chuuya's gaze snapped at you and his smile made you feel a little at ease "of course not, y/n San. I could actually use a little walk right now too. And please just call me chuuya" you nodded smiling softly as you both stepped in the elevator, now feeling more relaxed.

"is there anything you'd like to see first?" chuuya asked before pressing any button. You shook your head and he nodded "then we'll start floor by floor" the moment You both stepped out of the elevator, you were suddenly aware of the many eyes on you and it made you feel very, very uncomfortable. It was like every person in the floor was staring at you and judging you.

Your gaze fell on the floor and you whispered to chuuya "is it just me or is everyone staring?" chuuya kept his eyes ahead, chuckling softly. He didn't need to look around the room to see what everyone was looking at. "don't worry. This is the first time the mafia is seeing their boss's partner. That's why they're all staring. They don't mean any harm" even though he said that, he still looked around the room once with his eyes cold and stern. And once was enough to make all the men look away.

You didn't notice when people stopped staring at you because you were already busy looking around the huge place. There were so many long hallways and even more doors that you were sure you'd get lost in here if you wander around alone. Every person around you stepped back as you walked past them. But thankfully you were distracted enough to pay them no mind.

"this is the security room" chuuya said stopping in front of a black door before opening it. You hummed leaning forward on your tiptoes to look at the dark room. The only light in there being the many monitors that showed each and every part of this building. "you can go inside" chuuya smiled as your eyes widened "I can?" he nodded "of course you can" he held the door open for you but before you could take a single step in, the men sitting inside were already standing up and bowing a full 90°. Ah they must have probably seen you with dazai through the cameras when you had entered the building. Your eyes widened even more and you hastily said "p-please continue your work!" before looking at chuuya who nodded chuckling softly and closed the door.

"let's not go inside any room from now" you look at him sheepishly and he nodded "as you wish" you had a feeling he was trying to be polite by now laughing at you.

The next half hour went by a blur. Walking around the building, with him showing you the various rooms. You actually managed to see the inside of their training room because it had glass doors instead of the black wooden ones. From the outside you could see various types of guns hanging on a wall and many men training. And After only seeing men on every floor, you were surprised and very happy to see a girl outside the training room. She was wearing a mask so you couldn't see her face but before you could stop yourself, you waved at her with an excited smile. Your smile softened when you saw her eyes widen for a moment before she shyly waved at you and bowed before entering the room.

"that was Gin" chuuya said as you both walked towards the elevator "gin?" you looked at him and he nodded "Gin akutagawa. She is Ryunosuke's sister" your eyes widen in recognition "I didn't know he has a sister. They seem completely opposite of each other " you smiled at the image of the two siblings "they are" chuuya replied shortly.

After walking around the building for another 10 minutes, you were starting to feel tired. You've been walking around since 40 minutes but there are still places left to see. It seems like chuuya noticed your pace getting slower and stopped before turning around and looking at you "are you feeling tired, y/n San?" you smiled slightly and nodded "a little" ''would you like some water?" chuuya asked pressing the button on his ear piece and you nodded again "yes some water would be great. Thank you" he gestured for you to follow him "this is the resting area. You can rest here for a while and then I can take you back to the boss's office" he told you before saying something in his ear piece.

You wanted to tell him that you were fine and that you can continue the tour but before you could say anything, you both heard a commotion from nearby. Chuuya's gaze snapped towards the voices and he looked at you for a second "please wait here for me y/n San. I'll be back in a second" you know that you're safe here. This building literally belongs to your boyfriend and all these men work for him. But still the idea of being left alone in between all these new faces made you a little uncomfortable so you shook your head and stood up "I'll come with you" he nodded and got in front of you. All this time he was walking besides you so you were confused as to why he suddenly got in front of you "I'd like You to stay behind me" all the warmth in his voice had disappeared and you recognized the coldness in his voice. You've heard it before when he's doing his job as dazai's bodyguard and second in command.

You followed him as he walked towards the direction where the voices were growing louder and louder, until you both reached what looked like a room made for holding different types of weapons. You peeked around chuuya to see a small group of men standing at the center of the room but your eyes widened when you saw him "dazai?" you whispered, a smile blooming on your face but it soon dropped when chuuya growled "what the fuck are you doing?" you realised that the words weren't directed to dazai but the man standing in front of him.

"y/n San don't come any closer" chuuya said without looking at you and rushed by dazai's side. Your nervousnsess seemed to grow when you sensed the tense atmosphere in the room. Dazai looked calm at once glance but if you looked closely you could see the coldness in his eyes as he raised a single hand "chuuya. Stand back" Chuuya's jaw clenched but he didn't argue and stood a step behind dazai.

"now" a shiver ran down your spin when his lips tugged up in a smile. Not the smile that he gives you. But a cold and humorless one. "why don't you continue?" his voice was calm when he spoke to the man in front of him and only then did you look at the unknown man. While dazai looked as calm as ever, the man in front of him seemed to be shaking with fear. You looked at dazai nervously when he took a step ahead, causing the man to step back "you were saying something weren't you? Cat caught your tongue?" his lips pulled up in a smirk and there was almost a pleasant glint in his eyes when the man opened his mouth to say something "you're crazy" he sneered causing an empty laugh to slip past dazai's lips "oh really? I wouldn't have known until you told me"

Suddenly your eyes caught the movement of the man's hand and your eyes widened when you noticed the shine of a knife in his belt. For some reason the only thing going in your mind was that you had to take dazai out of here. So your legs started moving before you could even comprehend it and you were already running towards him. The man stumbled back when you got in between him and dazai and you breathed shakily reaching up to cup his face "samu" you whispered, your thumb rubbing his cheek softly. You didn't know what you were feeling when his gaze fell on you. That cold and empty gaze looked at you for a moment before a smile pulled up on his lips. But that wasn't the same smile he gave you almost an hour ago. That smile was full of love and warmth but this one lacked both of those emotions.

Chuuya had pulled his gun out the moment you stepped in but you were too busy trying to find your dazai to notice that. Your eyes searched his and you felt his hand gracing your waist in a light, feathery touch. And then as you continued looking in his eyes, trying to find the same warmth, you realised with a sinking feeling that you weren't looking at your lover right now. You were looking at the most feared man in the city.

"sweetheart" he mumbled, his fingers digging in your skin slightly with his voice void of an emotion. He always calls you that so why did it feel so different right now? "go back to my office. I'll be there soon" he wasn't asking you. He was telling you to go back. But that didn't stop you from shaking your head. You needed to get him out of here. "come with me" you whispered with pleading eyes, gripping his coat and hoping that your dazai would come back.

Before he could say anything, you heard chuuya yell "oi!" and all of a sudden, your were in dazai's arms. His arm was wrapped around your waist tightly and you were pulled in his chest. Your heart was pounding when you looked up, noticing that every man standing in this room were pointing their gun at the man who was arguing with dazai. "d-dazai?" you called him turning your head back and a fearful gasp left your lips when you saw dazai gripping the sharp end of the knife with his bare hand. The knife that was inches away from touching you. You looked up at him, tears filling your eyes when you saw the blood dripping from his hand while the man holding the knife stumbled back with wide eyes "samu y-your hand-" he shushed you softly. Placing a hand on the back of your head, he pulled you in so that your face was hidden in his chest. Once he was sure that your vision was blocked, he kissed your head and mumbled the words that only you could hear "those pretty eyes were only made to look at beautiful things, angel. Not at these worthless and pathetic beings"

Because your vision was blocked, you couldn't see him flipping the knife around in his injured hand. But you heard the blood curdling scream that left that man's mouth when dazai raised his hand and stabbed straight above the man's heart. Your eyes widened and your hands trembled as you gripped his coat tightly at the same time another scream echoed the walls.

A cruel smile lifted dazai's lips as he twisted the knife in the man's flesh. His smile widening at the screams and cries of help. "you know" he mused digging the knife deeper "I would have loved to hear you talk, had you not made the mistake of thinking you could get away after trying to hurt my love" with that he pulled the knife out only to stab him again. A small whimper left your lips when you heard another scream. The one that caught your lover's attention even with all the screams and cries. It was as if your voice snapped him back from his deranged haze. He dropped the knife and looked at chuuya who nodded, ordering a few men to take away the body.

He rubbed the back of your head with his uninjured hand, mumbling "don't look back angel. I want you to only look at me. Do you understand?" your reply was a small nod as you slowly pulled back and looked up with teary eyes . His jaw clenched at the sight but he didn't said anything and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, walking towards the elevator. The whole way towards his office, you didn't say anything but your bottom lip trembled when your eyes caught the sight of his bloodied hand hanging by his side. Chuuya took a different elevator and followed you both at a distance as dazai guided you back to his office.

As you entered the room, you turned around and looked at chuuya, your voice coming out shaky "c-can I get a wet towel and a first aid kit please? " "right away" chuuya replied and you saw him speaking something in his ear piece just as the door fully closed. You didn't say anything as you took his good hand and guided him towards his desk but you felt his eyes on you the whole time. When a knock sounded, you rushed towards the door and opened it to find chuuya standing there with the things you asked for. Taking the kit and the small basket of wet towels from his hands, you whispered a small thank you and turned around not waiting for his reply.

Still chuuya nodded as the door fully closed, and he turned around, standing there on guard with his hands clasped behind him "no one is allowed to enter this floor until I say so" every guard in the hallway nodded before passing the order in their ear pieces.

You found dazai leaned against his desk, watching you silently as you stood in between his legs, holding his injured hand gingerly and started cleaning the blood off of it. He didn't as much as blink an eye but you felt your own getting teary when you saw the blood staining the whole towel. You exhaled shakily, treating the wound as gently as you could all the while avoiding his eyes.

He observed you silently. His sharp eyes not missing a single detail from your shaky hands to you avoiding looking at him. His looked away for a moment, his voice coming out eerily calm "are you scared of me?" your movements halted and you finally looked at him. Again, his face seemed calm but you didn't miss the subtle tense in his jaw and the many emotions swirling in his eyes. Holding his uninjured hand for a moment, you said "I'm not scared of you, Osamu" his gaze fell on you and he gently squeezed your hand "then why are you avoiding me?" he asked quietly and you looked down again, resuming yout work "i-i'm not'' you both know that was a lie.

Placing his pointer finger under your chin, he tilted your face up, mumbling "look at me angel" you were trying to avoid his eyes to stop yourself from crying. You didn't want to appear so weak in front of him but you couldn't help it. A single tear ran down your cheek and dazai pulled you to him swiftly, wrapping an arm around your shaking form "i-im sorry" you whimpered burying your face in his chest while dazai's brows furrowed "why are you apologizing? You've done nothing wrong sweetheart" he whispered, his hold around you tightening as he pressed multiple kisses on your head "y/n please don't cry" he buried his face in your hair, exhaling the sweet fragrance of your shampoo "y-you got hurt because of me" you pulled back slightly to look at him and wiped your tears, a smile almost pulling on your lips when you saw the visible confusion on his face "what do you mean I got hurt because of you?" his honey eyes stared in your own as he patiently waited for you to finish your sentence.

"well" you looked down "i-i feel like if I hadn't come in between, then you wouldn't have gotten hurt. It was silly of me. Chuuya and everyone else wouldn't have let you get hurt even if that man had tried to attack you. But because I came in between.." you trailed off fiddling with the buttons of his coat. He tched shaking his head with a small sigh and made you look at him "angel I didn't get hurt because of you. That shit head was thinking about swinging his little knife at me before you were there too" your eyes widened at his words "y-you knew he was thinking about hurting you?" a raspy chuckle left his lips as he nodded, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses on your fingers "of course I did" he mumbled "then why didn't you move away? O-or-" he cut you off with a small smile "because thinking and doing are two different things, doll. He was thinking about it. He wanted to do it but he couldn't. He didn't have the guts to stab the boss so he decided to be a fucking coward and tried to hurt you thinking he'd have a chance to escape" his eyes darkened at the last sentence and his arms wrapped around your form, pulling you in his deep embrace again.

You hugged him back, noticing all the tension leaving his body as he relaxed against you. His voice much more soft now "you didn't hurt me angel. You'll never hurt me. So stop worrying that pretty little head, you hear me?" you nodded pressing a soft kiss on his jaw "Samu?" he hummed nuzzling his face in your neck causing you to giggle softly as you placed one hand on his shoulder while the other stayed wrapped around him "what did that man do? Y-you looked angry when I got there" you asked hesitantly not knowing if he'll even answer it or not. He has told you many times before that the less you know, the safer you will be. But there are only rare times when dazai truly gets angry. So you couldn't help yourself but ask.

He sighed tiredly and pulled back a little to cup your face with one hand "we found out that there were a few spies in the mafia" your eyes widened at that "chuuya had managed to find every one of them expect one person" "you knew that man was the spy?" he nodded looking proud at how quick you catch on "I had my doubts but I didn't want to risk him running away so I stayed quiet until my doubts were cleared. When he saw me he got flustered and you know a flustered human will always make mistakes. He didn't have any chance of escaping so he started babbling nonsense" he didn't want to tell you that the nonsense he was speaking, included you. He was already planning on how to make him see hell on earth but you gave him a quick death by coming in between. He wasn't mad at you about it. If anything, it made him realise the difference between you and him once again. While he's out here killing people, you're saving them without even knowing. And a quick death wasn't known as a punishment in his books.

He noticed you've gone quiet again as you absentmindedly played with the locks of his hair "sweetheart" you looked at him questioningly, his hands a little desperate as he pulled you in "tell me I didn't scare you" you smiled softly cupping his face and leaned forward until your lips brushed against his "I'm not scared of you, Samu. You didn't scare me. I was just a little... I can't find the right word for it but I'm not scared of you" he looked at you quietly for a moment before exhaling and pulling you back in his arms "I love you" he mumbled kissing the side of your head and you smiled "I love you too samu"

After a few moments of him holding you, you turned around in his arms so that your back was pressed against his chest and his one arm was wrapped around your waist . He watched you silently as you gently cradled his bandaged hand close to your chest "does it hurt?" you whispered and he could only manage a small shake of his head as he felt his heart skipping a beat when you raised his hand to your lips and pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

He knows what you were feeling. The emotion you couldn't name and neither could he to be honest. He was damaged since the early age of 14 so blood and gore didn't have any effect on him. Catching and punishing spies wasn't any surprise either. But this was the first time you, his precious angel witnessed something like this. And he was mad at himself for every letting you see something like this. When he was walking you to his office, he was convinced that he had scared you. That you will start hating him after seeing the side of him that he desperately wanted to hide. That this morning was the last time he was able to see your sweet smile. So imagine how he must have felt when you still welcomed him with open arms. When you still kissed him and heard him and held him with that smile and gentle warmth.

As he saw you softly caressing his injured hand, he wondered how you can treat him with the same love and affection after witnessing his true side. Holding you again was another thing. He was terrified that he won't ever be able to see you and your warm smile again. It scared him more than he expected. And this was the first time his expectations had gone wrong but he was so glad they did went wrong. Because he fell for you all over again. He loved you a little more than yesterday and he held you just a little tighter as you kissed his cheek, asking if you both can go home now.

Home. He never thought he would have a place that he could call home but here he was, letting you decorate his lifeless penthouse with your yellow cushions and curtains and flower pots and what not.

Smiling softly, he nodded, holding you just for a second more before pressing a deep kiss on your lips.

"let's go home, sweetheart"

#bungou stray dogs fanfic #bungo stray dogs fanfiction #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs #dazai fluff #dazai angst #dazai fanfic #dazai smut #dazai x reader one shot #dazai x reader smut #dazai fan fiction #dazai beast #mafia dazai #bsd dazai #bsd smut #bsd angst #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs angst #bsd x reader smut #bsd x reader fluff

[aeshiiteiru]

soo could you write about dazai, chuuya and tecchou's red green and beige flags?

…My Flags?

— Their green, red and beige flags ft. O.Dazai, N. Chuuya, S. Tetchou

— Warnings & Notes

sfw | Mix

|| thx for the request, made me have an unwanted reality check lmao

|| kinda angsty but also fluffy and funny, those are based on my own thoughts and opinions!

m.list | writing rules

— Dazai

The green flags

He tries his best to be a good boyfriend. Of course it takes time and effort, but he really tries to give his all for you and you notice it (most of the time). He just tries his best for you (even though he has his moments)

He showers you with compliments. He wants you to know what he feels for you every step of the way. Some compliments are actually just so ridiculous it’s funny

“Mh, ‘bella! You’re so beautiful I would definitely steal your photos, make a fake account, and impress other people online!”

“That’s, uh….creepy but cute, thank you love…”

Conversation with him are never boring! He will find thousands of stupid topics just to talk to you about them! He wants to hear you laugh and see you smile as you state your opinions on all these weird things. (He probably doesn’t want to do his work smh)

The red flags

He tends to gaslight you…a lot. Mostly about that you’re just paranoid that he gaslights you. He doesn’t do it on purpose most of the time, it’s just how he is.

Unfortunately he still flirts with other women. He isn’t cheating, but the sweet words and looks still happen sometimes. He does it unintentionally, but it’s there, it happens. He says he tries to get rid of these habits, but you’re doubtful.

 Dazai runs away from his problems. Always. Whenever there is a conflict between you two he tries to brush it off and act like everything is okey. That is until he notices you’re genuinely upset with him, then he just leaves. He leaves and returns after a few hours or days of no contact and acts like nothing happened again.

The beige flags

 When he notices that he accidentally made you cry, he will jump on top of you to aggressively suck the tears off your face like some human vacuum in order to make you laugh and feel better. It’s ridiculous but it works.

Whenever you ask him what he wants to eat he always, always replies with “you” or “nothing”. No in-between, no specifics. It was funny at first, but at some point you just started to sigh and shake your head at it.

He keeps his undies that have holes in them so that he can surprise you by walking out the bathroom and tearing them off his body only leaving the waist band. He calls it the “grand reveal”. Always whenever you least expect it. Makes you question many things.

— Chuuya

The green flags

He notices the little things. You have a sparkle in your eyes whenever you see a flower you like? Expect a bouquet of these flowers on the table the next day. You pick out a vegetable from your food because you don’t like it? He noticed, and he made sure that that vegetable never appears in your house ever again.

Yeah so he is always trying to impress you with things. He often makes a fool out of himself because of it, but it brings a smile to your face so you let him do his thing.

Chuuya loves to gossip about people with you. You know the second he says “you won’t believe what happened.” Means you’re in for the hottest, spiciest tea spill in history. His gossip is always so juicy it leaves you gasping with every sentence. You love how he trusts only you with it.

The red flags

The way he expresses his anger makes you feel unsafe sometimes. You never know when he will accidentally harm you during one of his anger outbursts. It’s very worrisome to you and actually him too.

He is an alcoholic already a separate red flag, so stuff happens when he is wasted (which is often). Chuuya often tells you hurtful things during that time. It’s things he would never, ever allow to leave his mouth while sober, but we all know drunk Chuuya is not your Chuuya anymore.

Always needs to know where you are and what you’re doing. He is very, very controlling. Is it because he is worried? Possessive? Obsessive?? No one knows. But he is, and it’s suffocating sometimes. You basically have no privacy. (It’s probably because he has trust issues that you’ll leave him at some point just like others ekhem Dazai )

“So, where are you going? Who will you be with?”

“….to a bar, with just some friends..?”

“Is that so? What friends? Actually, I’ll have some of my men go with you to be sure you’ll be fine.”

“……”

The beige flags

Whenever he spills the hot tea of the day in the mafia, you’re no longer “love, dear, doll or baby” etc. No, no, that’s when you become “dawg” or “bro” and you deal with it. He is not aware of it and you never tell him. You are dawg. That’s final.

Whenever he misplaces his belongings, the first thing he does is ask you “what did you do with my (insert item)?” It doesn’t matter what it is, his phone, his hat whatever, he thinks you took it.

When you guys go to bed he scoots closer and closer over the course of the night in order to cuddle you, except he always scoots a little too much and you always end up falling off the bed, and then when you try to get him to move back a little he will complain that it’s late and you should be sleeping instead of waking him up. (He is only half awake the whole time, forgive him for being a bitch)

— Tetchou

The green flags

He respects your boundaries. When you say no, it means no, and he understands.

He never flinches when you order something no sane person would eat. That's because he also does that. (It should be a red flag that his taste in food is horrendous, but he will never judge you sooo forgiven)

He always listens to you. He might not understand a thing you're talking about, or might not get why that thing is so exciting but he will listen, and agree with everything you say to show you he is interested and is paying attention.

The red flags

Puts his job above you. You always come second. He loves you, but if the job required him to break up with you, he would without a second thought. I’m sorry, justice above all.

He is lacking in emotional intelligence. He doesn't really know how to comfort you or empathize with you which leaves you to mostly deal with the emotional distress yourself.

Sleeps with his socks on during summer. Thats all, that’s the reddest flag.

The beige flags

Whenever he's hungry and you're not he will starve himself, because he refuses to eat when you're not eating. It makes him feel bad and you don’t get why.

Whenever you ask him a question he will answer without elaboration. —

"How was work?"

"Good. As usually."

— A man of few words, but you need him to spill the details, right now.

He can't use emojis. He thinks “🙄” is someone looking up, not an eye-roll. It makes texting more difficult than it should…

Copyright © 2023 Aeshiiteiru.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd tetchou #tetchou x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #tetchou suehiro #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd fluff #bsd flags #bsd angst #bsd crack

[osaemu]

OSAMU DAZAI: ❛❛ MIDNIGHT RAIN ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ his melancholia is addicting. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. smut –> angst. cunniligus, implied p –> v, alcohol consumption. mentions of alcohol and smoking. established relationship.

author's note: somewhat inspired by cornelia street, easily the best song off of lover imo. fight me.

dazai's a stressed man—that's what years upon years of living in environments as active and tense as the mafia and the agency would do to anyone. so on the somewhat rare occasions that dazai softens around you, it's not a problem for you to oblige him.

ever since the two of you started dating, you haven't had a free night to yourself. nights that were once spent on the couch are now spent following dazai through the scarcely lit parts of yokohama, the only illumination of his figure being the soft rays of twilight bleeding from the sky.

on your little nights out, he never lets go of your hand. whether it's to tug you along cobblestone pathways or comfort you in the alleys you used to avoid, his fingers are always threaded through your own.

the more comfortable he gets with you, the more touchy he gets. dazai's arms seem like they were made to wrap around your waist, and you can't help but feel like a part of you's missing when his fingers aren't tangled with your own.

dazai's good with his words, and even better with his hands. only someone as adroit as dazai could make you see stars on your bedroom ceiling with just his fingers.

on nights when the agency works him like a dog, it's all you can do to keep your heart from melting when you see the way he falls asleep in your arms. for him, your touch is dangerously drug-like—something like a sedative, as he tells you the morning after.

dazai wouldn't have it any other way—he'd rather be addicted to you than to cigarettes or alcohol. and, lucky for him, he finds out after your first night in his sheets that you even taste better too.

one crisp evening after one too many glasses of whiskey, dazai's lips find their way to your collarbone, brushing across your skin in an almost ghost-like manner. the way he's holding himself back is almost painful to watch—the longing in his eyes plus the way he flexes his fingers pulls out a plea for him to just touch you from your lips.

one thing leads to another, and within a couple minutes your clothes are discarded to who-knows-where and all you can think about is how good dazai is to you.

and yet, even an hour later, he's holding himself back. despite being under the influence, dazai retains enough of his mind to resist the growing urge to fuck you to his heart's content. only after your pleas turn into full-on begging does he give in, deftly pushing your legs apart and sliding in effortlessly, mumbling praises on just how well you're taking him.

dazai eats you out like a man starved—when you convince him to fuck you with his tongue, he's ravenous. to him, you taste like heaven, and to someone who's certainly going to hell, he can't help but savor the taste of the paradise he'll never set foot in.

someone with such a tainted past like him doesn't deserve such a good girl like you. you shouldn't have to bear any part of the burden that rests on dazai's shoulders—it's not your fault he's so attracted to you.

that's a lie. the blame can only be put on you for being so accommodating, so comforting, so fucking perfect—at least, that's what dazai tells you from his spot in between your legs.

the pornographic sounds that the two of you make over the course of the night fluctuate every time one of you goes over the edge, mind swamped with nothing but thoughts of the other.

the night goes by too fast, marked by love-drunk kisses and nearly-spilt glasses of whiskey. neither of you has any idea how it started or how it'll end—the rumpled sheets tangled in between your legs is enough.

promises of i'm yours fall from both of your lips as the high starts to fade and your breaths start to slow, sleep tugging at the backs of your minds.

as the view around you fades to black, a last whisper slips through your lips. just before your eyes flutter closed, you relish the look of surprise on your boyfriend's face—it's exceedingly rare to catch dazai off guard, and for you, the person he thinks he understands the most to do so? impossible.

and yet the six words you murmur as your head hits the pillow leave dazai open-mouthed for a moment. he's speechless. the words themselves aren't much, but the meaning behind them is everything.

all good things come to an end—as a member of two of the most perilous organizations in yokohama, dazai knows this all too well. being surrounded by death and danger for half your life tends to destroy one's faith in destiny, and yet, as dazai watches you fall asleep on his chest, he dares to let himself hope against all odds.

all good things come to an end, but hopefully, this won't. he's invested far too much into this for it to crumble—if the worst happened, he'd never love again. it wouldn't be worth the risk, not if someone as perfect as you managed to slip through his fingers. he couldn't lose you, too.

so when he hears his thoughts mirrored on your lips, something in dazai's heart breaks. all his life, he'd been taught that permanence was a false promise. everything ended, good and bad, eventually. dazai had been taught to cut people off before they could hurt him, but for you?

if loving you was pain, then by all means, consider him a masochist.

"i hope i never lose you."

#osaemu #bsd x reader #bsd smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu smut #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai smut #dazai x you #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x y/n #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai angst #bsd angst #dazai drabbles #bsd drabbles

[hopelessdazai]

✿ 》 Will you talk to me again?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I don't expect this to do well because its not smut but it'd be nice !! reblogs appreciated, support your creators :)

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; @saelique angst collab!! dazai x gn!reader, WC ; 784

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; angst, reader isn't alive, letter from dazai. he's trying very hard to keep himself stable but it's not working™.

To my dearest ______ .

It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you don't mind me writing to you like this, it's simply been too long. I'm sure you're still angry at me, so seeing you physically isn't my best interest right now! haha, I'm sorry. you know I'm just joking around, don't you? I'd love to see you in person. I'm sure you would've punched my arm if you heard me out loud right now, wouldn't you? I'm glad I'm spared of the bruises.

what does someone put in a letter? that's what I was asking myself before I even began writing. I decided that the best way to do something like this was to just write whatever I feel true as pen touches paper. I hope it makes sense to you, at the least. if I'm pouring my heart out on some paper only for it to be misunderstood, it feels like a waste, no?

though, i'd be lying if i said it wouldn't be rather cute to see you try to fathom what I mean. did you know you scrunch your nose like a bunny sometimes when you're reading? I'm sure you're doing that now too. you'll get wrinkles very at this rate ..

but anyway, I managed to prank kunikida the other day! you remember that hair dye trick I'd told you about? I managed to break into his apartment and swap out his shampoo, at last! he came into work the next day with black hair, it was hilarious, you should've been here! he was so angry with me. beat me black and blue!

oh, _____. I got a new heated blanket for our bed, you know? it took a while to save up for it, and I had to cut out some other necessities, sure. but it makes everything so much better! I hate cold beds, I'm sure you know that better then anyone. haha, back before we moved in together when I'd break into your apartment and crawl into bed with you. I'm sorry for the amount of locks I broke, but your place was so cozy!

... you know, it's been really hard without you here. I miss you so painfully, and I don't mean to call into the void without even an echo, but its killing me to pretend I'm fine about any of this. I'm not fine with this, how am I supposed to be? I wish it was just a bad dream.

I don't want to have to write letters to you anymore, ______. I don't want to have to buy heated blankets to try and stop my arms from aching for your warmth. I don't want you to be angry with me, I'm sorry I didn't apologise to you before you were gone. I shouldn't have been so stupid.

i had so many words on my mind that I was too afraid to say. maybe if I faced myself and told you 'I love you' it would've stopped you leaving.

have you met odasaku yet? has he told you any stories of his time? I wish I could hear your voice again. I wish you could answer my questions. even to hear you scoff at my stupidity again would heal me. I'm sorry I was annoying, I just wanted your attention. it stings knowing I'll never get it again.

I can't keep repeating to myself that you're not gone. I can't keep buying your perfume and pretending that you're in the next room over. your pillow doesn't smell like you anymore.

I wish I could apologise properly. I wish I could've stopped you from leaving the house that night. I wish I could kill myself to join you and yet I know we won't cross paths again in the afterlife. you were always too good for me, ______. i was nothing compared to you.

i picked up a homeless dog yesterday. you'd always wanted a puppy, I'm sorry I never let you bring one home. I named it after you. im trying to get used to them, I promise. if I couldn't save you, I'll save your name.

I'm sorry. if I continue writing, my throat will hurt more. its strange, isn't it? crying makes your throat sore. I forgot what it was like for a while, I remember laying in your arms wondering if I'd ever have a reason to cry again. now I can't seem to help myself.

keep your wings clean for me, white looks good on you. its a shame you couldn't wear the wedding attire i wished to see you in one day. you would've looked amazing.

I'll write again, missing you is the greatest honor.

sincerely, your osamu.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #bsd fic #bsd #bsd angst #bungo stray dogs angst #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai angst #dazai osamu fic #dazai oneshot #dazai osamu angst #angst

[osachiyo]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 by anonymous user ꒱. . . hello ! I really like your works, could I please request an insecure!reader with chuuya? and him fucking some sense into her? don't feel pressured to do this btw and feel free to ignore :D

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 note ꒱. . . here u go, nonnie ! I really liked this idea and sorry for taking so long on this request 😭 anyway, hope you enjoy ~~

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 c/w ꒱. . . (18+) n/sfw content, mentions of insecurities, body worshipper chuuya, praise, lowercase intended, hints of dumbfication, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, cunnilingus, chuuya eats it from the back !! 🗣️🗣️& more + not proofread

summary. . . you've been feeling insecure about your body and started to wonder if you were really good enough for someone like chuuya? but no worries, your lover doesn't mind reminding you how much he loves your body and more importantly, you.

you sighed, staring at your reflection in the fancy full-body mirror in front of you; god, you looked horrendous. you didn't know how chuuya, one of, if not the most beautiful man you've ever met, love someone like.. you.

what you also didn't know, though, was that your beloved chuuya had been standing in the doorway the entire time, slender figure leaning against the doorframe as a dull pain throbbed in his heart while he watched, heard you pick apart your body like it was the ugliest thing you had ever seen. he watched as you ran your fingers up and down the parts you hated the most, a frown tugging at your lips as you muttered something about "not being pretty enough". he didn't understand why you'd say such things about your body− all of those beautiful parts of yours that he cherished wholeheartedly.

you whipped your head around hearing the sound of the once slightly ajar bedroom door shut, your boyfriend entering the room. "hey doll, what're you up to?" chuuya's voice was heavy, laced with something you couldn't exactly put a finger on.

"hey, chuu," you smiled, though the action didn't meet your eyes. and chuuya could tell.

his eyes narrowed, gloved hands found their way around your waist, tugging you closer to him− your back flush against his chest. when did he walk all the way across the room?

"y'know, I heard everything right?" he muttered into your neck, strong arms tightening around your figure as you gulped nervously. "chuuya I−" "you're fuckin' beautiful. so don't say hurtful shit about yourself 'cause it for sure ain't true," he cut you off, now pressing soft kisses on the back of your neck to your shoulders, gloved hands reaching up your shirt to knead and gently caress your soft skin.

a whimper caught in your throat as chuuya's hands found your breasts− pushing your bra up to grope them under your shirt. "i love all parts of your body. fuck, you're so pretty. i'll fuckin' prove it to you if i have to."

"you see that, baby? see the way this pussy sucks my fingers in?" chuuya mused, now bare fingers plunging in and out of your sopping cunt as he had you spread in front of the giant mirror. "mm-! fuck, chuu−!" you were cut off by your own moans, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, making the little strands of your baby hair stick to your skin. "shh, baby. just focus on the way i finger fuck this pretty cunt, yeah?" your lover's voice was muffled by the soft kisses he was busy pressing all over your nape and shoulders, moving your hair out of the way to make it easier.

you could see everything in the mirror, from the way chuuya's slim fingers disappeared inside of your pussy to how much of a mess you've already become− glossy lips parted as loud moans and whines escape from your throat, the way your tits bounce and jiggle with each thrust of his digits. and hell, was it embarrassing. you jolted up when the tips of his appendages rubbed against that one spongey spot inside of your gooey walls− your jaw slacking as your eyes shut. only to receive a gentle but firm slap on your face from chuuya, "nuh-uh, baby. you're gonna watch how I please this beautiful body of yours," he growled lowly in your ear, fingers speeding up their pace as you twitch and whine in response. your vision was blurry− but you could still make out the way your face contorts to one of pure bliss in your reflection.

"yeaah− cum on these fingers, sweetheart," the ginger groaned as you soaked his fingers− your slick running down his wrist and staining the bed sheets underneath, soft curses and his name spewing out of your mouth as his fingers slowed down, aiding you to ride out your orgasm.

you gasped when he abruptly pulled them out of your still sensitive cunt− only to pop them in his mouth as he moaned from the taste of your juices melting on his tongue. "fuck, doll− I gotta taste you, need'a make you cum on my tongue−" he pushed you on your hands and knees before even finishing his sentence− a large hand pressing your back to a perfect arch, face down ass up.

"such a nice fuckin' ass," he groaned, fingers digging into the soft fat and spreading them as you whimper, pitifully clawing at the bed sheets. he playfully bit one of your globes, earning a whine in return which made him chuckle. chuuya's greedy hands ran down from your ass to your thighs, only to go back up to knead at your ass, "and these soft thighs− god, I could kiss 'em for hours."

and as if to prove himself, he started littering kisses all over your inner thighs, hands still kneading your ass before giving it a firm spank, making you jump. "hah, and of course−" he smirked before making his way to your pussy, "this pretty fuckin' pussy− prettiest one I've ever seen," he growled before diving in between your legs− hungry lips wrapping around your clit as you gasp out from the feeling.

"fu−ck! chuuya−!" you babbled, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm from earlier, his nose bumping against your slit as he runs his tongue in a zigzag motion across your clit. his fingers were spreading your ass apart for him, to get easy access to your sweet pussy that he wanted to devour so bad.

shamelessly nasty slurping noises came from between your parted thighs. your slick was already dripping down chuuya's chin as you tried your best to keep your gaze on the mirror, watching yourself getting eaten out from the back. fuck, your hair was a mess− your bare figure covered in bites and bruises that your boyfriend gave you, claiming it was his way of showing you were his. your makeup had been completely ruined; mascara running down your cheek in inky streaks, lipstick smudged− you looked utterly debauched, chuuya's favorite look on you.

a gurgled moan came out of your mouth when two fingers pushed inside of your sloppy pussy, the mafia executive's tongue now writing his name on your clit. a deep groan rumbled in his chest when you tried to run away from the feeling of his tongue and fingers on you− pulling you back before harshly cracking a palm down on your left globe, before curling his fingers further into you. tears were falling freely from your eyes at this point, mouth dropped to an 'o' as you chanted his name like a prayer− "chuu− please, fuck! s'too much−!" you cried out, if it weren't for chuuya's death grip on you, you'd already have fallen face first into the matress.

"you can− fuuck− take it, sweet girl," chuuya moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of the sound making your toes curl and apparently that was the last straw for you− "fuckfuck! 'm cummin'− cummingg−!!" your eyes rolled back into your skull as you squirted all over chuuya's face, his own hips rutting into the mattress as his eyes widen− he wasn't expecting you to do that.

chuuya gave your messy cunt a few more licks before kissing your clit, then pulling away. you looked back to see his face completely drenched− him licking his lips as he gave you a lopsided grin. "holy shit, baby. that was..." he muttered, still dazed as he ran his clean hand through his sweaty orange locks. you were still panting, chest heaving as you tried came down from the euphoric high before looking away in embarrassment, fingers fiddling with the sheets− then suddenly, you got slammed back against the bed. face down, ass up, again.

you heard a metal clink− likely his belt. the sound of expensive leather hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, he must've tossed the belt somewhere. it wasn't long before your thoughts got quickly cut off, chuuya's heavy tip slapping against your clit a few times as you whined, begging him to give you a rest but no− he wasn't gonna stop until he was sure he fucked all those negative thoughts out of your mind− wasn't gonna stop 'till all thoughts but his left that pretty little head of yours. you just had to sit still and take it, like the good girl you were.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

TAGS »»————> @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

#bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd x reader smut #bsd angst #bsd x reader angst #bsd #bsd imagines #bsd fics #bsd fanfic #bsd chuuya #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader smut #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya nakahara x reader smut #bungou stray dogs chuuya #˚˙᭕ chiyoh's works ᭕˙˚

[awoogayanderes]

imagine fyodor

imagine meeting fyodor at a young age, knowing that he’s different than the other boys

imagine establishing a friendship with fyodor, whilst your mother tells you to stay away

imagine slowly realizing that fyodor is more deranged, but accepting him

imagine fyodor testing your loyalty when he forms his plan of purifying the world

imagine confused fyodor when he realizes his heart craves someone, you

imagine falling in love with fyodor and imagine him falling in love with you

imagine fyodor reciting his wedding vows to love, serve, and protect you as your husband

imagine trying to live a comfortable life with fyodor as he consumes himself into his plans

imagine arguing with fyodor of how fukuchi’s prison plan was outrageous, that it wouldn’t work and that you wouldn’t support it

imagine feeling fyodor give the crown of your head one final kiss before leaving

imagine hearing from the others that fyodor is now in prison, that the plan can proceed

imagine waiting patiently for fyodor to come home, it’s been a long time since you saw him

imagine staring at nikolai as he shows you the arm of your ‘deceased’ husband

imagine sobbing your eyes out as you realize you weren’t even there when fyodor said goodbye, a wave of guilt washing over you

imagine silently sitting at fyodor’s grave, changing his flowers out every 3 days

imagine not only losing your best friend but your lover because of his ambitions.

➪ other notes : i felt really silly today, so you all have to suffer with my sadness :3

#written by terra #sincerely terra #engraved with bitterness #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd manga #bsd manga spoilers #bsd x reader #bsd angst #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bsd fyodor #bsd season 5 #bsd anime #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor angst

[kyoukamybeloved]

Even Dazai had forgotten to breathe as he watched the storm that was Chuuya decimate the battlefield.

part 2

A place called no homeland - Kai Cheng Thom// art by @liyv// the lover as a cult - Olivia Gatwood// I love you so - the Walters// consequences - lovejoy// the American water museum - Natalie Diaz// art by @pleucas// your sister was right - wilbur// life prayer - Lou Salomé// prologue - Anna Akhmatova// art by @greendy2l// house song - searows// letter to Liv Ullmann - Ingmar Bergman// art by @siredcrab// unknown// art by @liyv// 2 truths and a lie - Angelea Lowes// art by @joonsbubu// English song - Fernando Pessoa// staking a claim - Erika Meitner// never love an anchor - the crane wives// art by @pleucas// two slow dancers - mitski// Elke river// art by @zaerxa// normal people - sally rooney// art by @zaerxaa// Sweeney - Anne Sexton// @/1110yu_ku_si on twitter// written on the body - Jeanette Winterson// art by @lotus-pear// normal people - sally rooney// art by @lotus-pear// bite the hand - boygenius// the 1 - Taylor Swift// letter to J.M. Murry from Katherine Mansfield// art by @evelyn-art-05

#pls dont flop ill cry #bsd #soukoku #skk #izzie posts #web weaving #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #dazai chuuya age fifteen #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd season 5 #bsd s5 #stormbringer #bsd fifteen #bsd stormbringer #bsd angst #bsd skk #chuuya nakahara #dazai x chuuya #skk angst #skk analysis #bsd meta #nakahara chuuya #ill probably make another one ive got like so many literature quotes and songs #bsd soukoku #bsd season five

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: seven months after his defection, you run into dazai osamu by sheer chance. you know in your heart what you should do—traitors are to be disposed of, regardless of any previous relationship you might've had with them... but can you bring yourself to do what must be done? or will you be more driven by the questions you desperately need answered?

(wordcount: 7.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, angsty (i promiseeeee i have some happier ones coming up with pm!reader and pmzai), alcoholism, dazai is in a particularly bad mental state)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: this one was suchhhh a doozy. the third installment of my pm!reader & pm!dazai universe, this is why i had to retcon he's my collar because originally pm!reader didn't see him at all during the 4 years but i got the idea for this fic like 2 ?? weeks ago and it was too good to not use - tomorrow i think i'll put up the masterlist for it so you guys can see the chronology and planned installments

Against all odds, you run into Dazai Osamu seven months after his defection.

You should put a bullet in his skull. You watch absently from the mouth of the alley as the ex-Port Mafia executive groans, trying to push himself to his feet only to crash back onto the pavement, blood smeared across his face from a crooked nose and split lip, bile pooled on the ground where he’d landed.

Gross, you think, lip curling up in disgust as his lithe fingers smear through the vomit, blunt nails scraping against the pavement as he attempts to push himself up again but fails. His shoulders are heaving, breath slow and labored as he lets out another wretched sound, crumpling back to the ground. 

You click the safety off of your gun, pulling it out of your pocket as you quietly make your way deeper into the alley, over to where he’s still struggling to get off the ground. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence until he hits the ground hard again after nearly making it to his feet. This time, he falls onto his shoulder and gasps in pain as he rolls onto his back, blinking up blearily through glazed-over eyes that can hardly focus on you or the gun pointed at his head.

You should just get it over with, pull the trigger, and leave the body for cleanup to handle. It’d be a better fate than he deserves, cleaner and quicker than he’d ever give himself, and not even half as painful as it’ll be when the Port Mafia inevitably get their hands back on him. 

You’d be sparing him, really; it would be a mercy.

And it’s what is expected of you. Letting a traitor as high profile as Dazai Osamu go free when you have a clear chance to execute him would be more than enough to have you stripped of your rank and thrown into the torture chambers, body dumped in the river when the Port Mafia is done punishing you. 

But still, for some reason, your finger hesitates as you move to pull the trigger. 

“You…” His voice is so slurred that you can hardly make out coherent words, but you use his words as an excuse to bide even more time, curious to see what he’s going to say. You can smell the whiskey on him from where you’re standing, his skin is paler than it usually is, and you notice, idly, that the bandages on his right eye are gone and you wonder when he chose to shed them. “You’re not real.”

Your eye twitches in irritation. 

You pull the trigger. 

If he was sober, he would have expected the reaction from you and dodged the bullet, but he’s not sober, so his eyes fly open in shock as the bullet grazes his ear and embeds itself in the pavement next to his head. He doesn’t look any more sobered up by the pain, which you suppose is a testament to how drunk he really is, but he does look significantly more confused. 

“You shot me,” he says, pale lips parted as he stares up at you—too pale, you notice absently, brows furrowing a bit as you try to consider what to do.

“Yeah,” you say, voice rough with irritation. “Real enough for you?”

Dazai blinks, you don’t even think your words are registering and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. 

Get it over with, you tell yourself again, this time positioning your gun over his forehead. A clean kill. You won’t move it to the side at the last minute again. You remind yourself that this is what he deserves—he’s a traitor to the Port Mafia, to you. Killing him now would be a mercy compared to what the Port Mafia would do to him, compared to what he’d do to himself. 

He stares up at you, brown eyes wide and glassy. He parts his lips to speak but you can’t give yourself the same excuse; you don’t wait for his words this time. 

You pull the trigger again.

But Dazai is moving. He rolls over onto his side trying to push himself back to his feet and the bullet lodges right into the ground where his head had once been lying. You stare down at it in disbelief, gun falling to your side as your fingers start to feel a bit numb and clunky, breath catching as you realize what you’d almost just done—what you tried to do. 

Dazai makes it to his knees and he tries to reach out for you but you step back out of reach. His brows furrow before he keels over again, dry heaving now—there’s enough bile around him for you to realize he’s probably thrown up everything in his stomach and then some. He leans against the wall, the glassiness of his eyes spilling over his cheeks as he continues to dry heave but your gaze is still trained down on the ground where the bullet is embedded in the ground where his head had just been laying. 

You just tried to-

You think you’re the one who feels sick now. The dinner you’d had out with Chuuya and Kouyou rises to the back of your throat as you take another step away from Dazai. Your vision blurs as your gaze turns to him again, but instead of the tattered and vomit-stained clothes he’s wearing now, he’s back in the dark suit you’re accustomed to, crumpled on the ground still, but not because he’s drunk because he’s been wounded on a mission that he took on so you wouldn’t have to. 

You just tried to kill Dazai.

Dazai, who’s been your closest friend since the two of you were sixteen and at the center of the most violent conflict to rock Yokohama’s foundations. Entirely inseparable, forever entwined since the moment the two of you met; the type of instant click that most people could only ever dream of experiencing in their lives. 

You almost killed Dazai.

Dazai, who promised to put a bullet in Ace’s head if the man ever came near you again after he found out the newly promoted executive had insinuated putting one of his collars on you during a confrontation between the two of you. He knew that even he would face consequences for threatening another executive, that he would face even more if he dared to follow through with his threat, but he didn’t care and he had every intention of following through if it meant keeping you safe.

You would have killed Dazai if not for sheer luck. 

Dazai, who used to kiss you with trembling fingers and quivering lips, because for as much as his reputation as the Demon Prodigy had spread throughout the country, he was still just a teenage boy who’d never had his first kiss until the two of you got drunk on champagne after a successful mission when he made the mistake of admitting to you that he’s never kissed anyone before. The two of you’d spent the entire night giggling between chaste kisses, getting through just about two bottles of champagne before you started throwing up.

He held back your hair and laughed at you as you leaned over the toilet, miserable. But he was gentle with you in a way that Dazai Osamu is never gentle with anyone, fingers carding through your hair, rubbing absent circles on your back to soothe you as you choked over sobs and gags. 

Then there’s you. You, who not only a moment ago, looked down at him with your lip curling up in disgust, unable to hold your grimace at the way he laid in his own vomit. You lifted the barrel of your gun in his direction not once, but twice, and you pulled the trigger not once, but twice.

When you showed vulnerability to him, he showed you a type of tenderness that everyone thought was long lost to the notorious Demon Prodigy. 

When he finally shows vulnerability to you, you only show him cruelty in response.

You try to convince yourself that it’s different, that the circumstances are different now but the words ring hollow in your head, taking no root, because you think the circumstances shouldn't matter. This is Dazai. Dazai. There are no circumstances that justify executing him.

Your head spins and you take another step away, you don’t know where you dropped your gun and you don’t want to know. You don’t want to look at it. You don’t want to touch it. You’ll send someone else after it later. You blink, and for a moment, you can visualize what almost happened: you can see Dazai motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his head and a bullet wound piercing through his forehead. You gag, pressing your hand to your mouth as you force back the bile that nearly comes up. 

“Wait,” Dazai garbles out, pushing off the wall toward you but he propels himself right into the ground again, face first, scraping his cheek on the concrete. “Don’t leave again.”

Again? The word nearly pulls you out of your daze, the bitterness that’s poisoned you for seven months returning with a vengeance as your eyes focus on him. 

Dazai, who left you without a word or a warning. Not even the slightest goodbye. He abandoned you like you meant nothing to him. 

“I need to-” he gags again as he pushes himself to his knees. He tries to reach forward again but his whole body sways, eyes half-rolling back as he tries to steady himself, on the verge of passing out. “I need to tell you this time. I need to-”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, slumping back over onto the ground unconscious—in a puddle of his own blood and vomit, naturally. The logical part of you knows you should just leave him there. You’re already playing with fire by not executing him on the spot, but you also know if you leave him here, it’ll be as good as a death sentence. If he doesn’t die on his own from alcohol poisoning, then he’ll certainly be found by the Port Mafia patrols. You think Dazai is a fool for drinking so much so deep in Port Mafia territory, for not being careful enough to make sure he didn’t wander out in the open. 

He should know better. 

He does know better.

A part of you wonders if it was intentional, if he thought that he’d stumble into Port Mafia territory and he’d run into someone eager to lay claim to the fame of being Dazai Osamu’s executioner.

If that’s the case, he nearly got his wish—that thought alone almost sends you spiraling over the edge again, having to shove away more nausea. You force all thoughts of the Port Mafia and betrayal to the back of your mind as you fall to your knees next to him, gathering him up into your arms and pushing yourself back to your feet. He curls into you instinctively, even while unconscious, smaller than you remember, smearing blood and bile all over your suit. Your grip on him tightens, a shaky breath escaping your lips when you realize that this is the first time you’ve touched him since the night he left. 

You shake your head to clear your mind, desperately trying to focus. You can’t stay out in the open with him for long otherwise you’ll risk someone seeing you with him, and that’ll open a can of worms you’re not prepared to deal with.

You’ll drop him off somewhere safe, and then you’ll get back to base.

That’s all.

That is not all.

The safehouse in Sakae that the two of you would run to whenever you wanted to avoid Mori is just how you left it the last time you spent the night with him there over half a year ago. One of his jackets is still draped over the couch, one of your ties thrown haphazardly on the ground—you remember the night vividly, the way he smiled against your lips as he lead you into the back bedroom, stumbling over each other and fumbling with buttons as you tried to undress the other while walking to the room, high off the success of a mission that everyone had said would fail because the odds were so stacked against the two of you. Even Chuuya had laughed in your face when you said you’d take the mission, but you knew so long as Dazai had your back on it, it would work out in your favor. 

He’s woken up several times, you don’t even know what he’s saying in his incoherent babbles. Every time he wakes back up, he’s calling for you, stumbling out of the bed you laid him in after getting him cleaned up and crashing to the ground before he reaches the hall. It’s irritating, you have to go back to help him back into the bed every time and he starts babbling again, passing out before you can figure out what he’s saying. You finally had to move yourself into the back bedroom with him so he didn’t try to get up again.

You don’t know why you’re still here. 

You lean your forehead against your hand as you sit on the bed next to where he’s lying, one leg tucked beneath you while the other hangs over the side. You tell yourself it’s because you don’t want him to get up drunk trying to look for you and then crack his head open, but it’s a weak excuse because Dazai Osamu is not your issue anymore. It’s not your job to watch over him when he gets shit-faced drunk, it’s not your job to patch him up when he gets hurt, it’s not your job to look out for him. 

He left you, not vice versa, You don’t owe him anything. He lost that privilege when he betrayed you. Fuck the Port Mafia, he betrayed you when he left without a word. You deserved better than that. You deserved a goodbye. You don’t owe him shit. You should leave him here to rot in his own vomit and blood but-

But you won’t.

Your gaze drifts back over to him. He’s still out cold—cleaner now, because it had never just been ‘get him somewhere safe and then go back to the base,’ as soon as you got him into the safehouse you wrangled him into the bathroom to clean him up. He was uncharacteristically pliant as you manhandled him into the shower. You suppose it was because he was unconscious for half of it but even for the moments where he was awake and blearily blinking the water out of his eyes, looking up at you through wet bangs with those stupid big eyes of his, as if he was still unsure if you were actually there.

Instinctively, you reach out to brush the back of your knuckles against his swollen, split lip, wondering if it was just from him being clumsy while drunk or if he’d managed to piss someone off at a bar. Both are equally likely—Dazai is a rather cantankerous drunk when he’s alone and drunk on whiskey, and even after cleaning him up and dousing him in soap to get out the reeking scent of his vomit out from where it’d sunken into his skin, shoving a toothbrush into his mouth to brush his teeth and scrubbing so they don’t rot from the bile, you can still smell the whiskey on his breath.

You wonder how much he drank. His skin is still pale, his breath shuddered, and he’s shivering even though you wrapped him in three thick blankets. Some degree of alcohol poisoning, that’s for sure. You tell yourself that’s why you’re not leaving—you don’t want to leave before you’re sure he’s pulled through the worst of it. You’re not going to admit to yourself that you don’t want to leave because you’re worried it’ll be the last time you see him for real this time. 

You hesitate right before your knuckles brush his skin, swallowing thickly before you withdraw your hand back into your lap, eyes sliding shut as you sigh.

What the hell are you doing?

If anyone from the Port Mafia knew what you were doing right now, you’d be hunted down right alongside him, branded as a traitor and sentenced to death. Chuuya would kill you if he knew what you were doing right now—and not because you betrayed the Port Mafia by helping Dazai, instead because you’re a fucking idiot. You’ve done a lot of stupid things in your life, but this might take the cake for the stupidest, sticking your neck out for someone who didn’t even care enough to tell you goodbye. 

You rub your forehead, tired. You try to summon the anger you felt when you first found out he betrayed the Port Mafia from Mori and Chuuya—from the hot fury you felt in the direct aftermath, screaming and breaking everything you could get your hands on as you cursed his name and burned everything he left in your apartment to the cold rage you felt when you finally calmed down, bitter and lonely and betrayed by the one person you never thought would betray you—but you can’t. And you think it’s pathetic because what use is all of that anger if you can’t utilize it when the reason for it is lying right before you?

If Chuuya were here right now, he’d drag you out by the hair and leave Dazai to suffer on his own. You left your phone in the kitchen after turning off your location, because he was already buzzing incessantly wondering where you are. You’d told him that you wanted to stop by one of the fishing ports in Kanazawa to check on a small weapons shipment that should’ve arrived earlier in the night before heading back to your shared apartment—you’d moved in with him after Dazai’s betrayal. He made the executive decision himself, not giving you a choice in the matter because he realized that you living on your own in the apartment that Dazai had practically moved into with you was not conducive to you healing from his betrayal.

Plus, you think he was lonely too without Dazai around anymore, but he’d never admit that.

You should’ve been back an hour ago. You’re sure that he’s getting suspicious and it’s only a matter of time before he tries to track you down. You don’t think he knows about this safe house in particular, Dazai had threatened you with piling up mission reports onto you if you told him about this one, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Chuuya learned about it through other means—somehow, he always seems to know everything. 

You sigh again, heavier this time as you try to figure out what to do. You know what you should do, but you also know you’re not going to do that. Your gaze drags back over to him and your breath catches when you realize he’s awake again, bleary brown eyes trained on you, brows furrowed. 

His lips part to speak again and you tense, waiting for whatever he has to say, unsure if you’ll even understand it.

“You… came with me. You never come with me. Are you… really here?” 

Even though his eyes are still glazed over and muddled, his voice is less garbled than it was before. You think that’s a good sign, but even so, you let out an even heavier sigh, this one more irritated, and a bit confused because you don’t even know what that means: you never come with me. 

“Yes, Dazai,” you say sharply, but then you let out a puff of air. The same memories that hit you before coming right back to you, remembering all of the nights Dazai would stay up having to take care of you, patient in a way that he never was with anybody. You soften your voice a bit as you say, “Yes. I’m here.”

Dazai looks at you like he doesn’t believe you. He blinks once slowly, then his brows furrow deeper and his lips turn downward.

“You don’t call me Dazai.” He speaks the accusation slowly, as if to make himself sound more coherent, but you can still hear the clear slur in his voice. “You never-”

You turn away because if you don’t, you think you might lose your temper. He’s drunk, you remind yourself, but he’s still ripping open wounds that never properly healed, because how dare he expect you to still call him by his given name after everything. It had taken months for you to get used to calling him Dazai again and-

You feel your chest start to cave in again and your throat spasms. Your eyes flutter shut and god, you want to hate him. You thought you did hate him, you convinced yourself of it in all of the bitter rage and acidic betrayal you’ve felt the past seven months but now that you’re confronted with him again, you know that it was never hate. You could never hate Dazai Osamu. You'd just missed him so terribly that the pain was easy to mistake as hate; love and hate has always been a treacherously thin line, and Dazai more than anyone else wavers on either side of it.

Your heart feels like it’s about to leap from your chest and crawl right back to him, you have to physically place your hand over your chest as if to hold it in place, to make sure the traitorous thing can’t go back to the very man that tore it shreds. You force yourself to breathe, in and out, steady, trying to settle down. 

This was a mistake, you realize, this was a mistake. 

Just as you’re about to push yourself up, you feel lithe fingers curl around your arm. You freeze, not even daring to glance back at Dazai. You can hear him pushing the covers off of him as he crawls closer to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His movements are unsteady, and you can’t bring yourself to push him off of you when you feel him slump against your back.

His weight is familiar, comforting in a way that it shouldn’t be. If you close your eyes, you can imagine that you’re back at the Port Mafia base seven months ago and Dazai is draping himself across your back, complaining about being overworked by Mori and trying to convince you to take over his paperwork. You’d have to drag him halfway across the base trying to get to your office with his dead weight hanging onto you, you remember all of the wary stares from your subordinates as they try not to let their gaze linger on the two of you but let their curiosity get the best of them regardless.

You hate that you don’t push him off right away, that you’re letting yourself indulge in his touch again. You’ve moved on from this—from him. It’s been seven months. You’re over all of this.

“You… understand, don’t you?” 

You barely hear the words muffled against your back, but you do and you can’t help but stiffen at them. He shifts against you, fingers biting into your skin as he pulls himself up a bit more to bury his face in the crook of your neck, arms looped around your waist as he leans all of his weight onto your back. You can feel his breath warm and shuddered against your neck, making your hair stand on end, and his hands are limp in your lap now, fingers brushing against the material of the clean slacks you’d pulled on after getting Dazai showered.

It’s all so familiar that it could make you sick.

“How could I?” you ask bitterly, even though you know you shouldn’t take out your resentment on him while he’s so drunk; he probably won’t remember any of this in the morning anyway. There’s no point, you’ll just be wasting your energy.

His arms tighten around you, breath hitching against your skin. “I had to, Odasaku-”

The noise you let out is such a sharp scoff that you can feel Dazai flinch behind you. You almost shove him off of you but you refrain, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself down. You never really had any feelings about Odasaku—he was always just there, you heard about him from Dazai occasionally and he seemed pleasant enough the few times you encountered him—but after all of this, you can’t help but hold a grudge against him, irrationally blaming him for Dazai leaving you.

“Odasaku wasn’t your only friend,” you say tightly. “You had me. Chuuya. You-”

“It’s not the same,” Dazai protests, clinging to you as if he hadn’t just driven a knife right through your back into your heart. 

This time you do shove him off, barely sparing him a glance as he lets out a surprised yelp, sprawling back onto the bed. You push away the mistiness that threatens your eyes, breathing in and out slowly to try to keep yourself calm. It’s not the same, you repeat his words, bitterness poisoning your blood and clouding your head. What the fuck does that even mean? You know logically you should take his words with a grain of salt, that he’s so drunk he probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying, but you just feel so angry that it’s hard for you to keep that in mind. 

You hear him scrambling behind you: a thump as he hits the floor hard and then a rush of movement as he pushes himself to his knees. His fingers curl around your ankle before you can get further away and you have a half a mind to kick him off of you and leave.

You don’t.

“Don’t leave,” he pleads. He drags himself to his knees, pulling at your pants and it takes all of your self-control to not look back down at him. “I didn’t-it came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?” you ask him, even though you by all means should not even bother to hear his shitty explanation.

“I just-I didn’t mean it like that.” You’ve never heard Dazai’s voice crack before, but it does now. “Don’t leave. I miss you.”

“You miss me?” you spit out, and you finally turn to look down at him—a mistake, of course, because he’s on his knees in front of you, looking up at you with those stupid, big brown eyes and you almost let your anger fizzle away at the sight of it. He’s drunk, you remind yourself again, but it doesn’t stop you from snapping at him. “You left me, Dazai. You have no right to miss me.”

“But I do.” His fingers fumble for your hand, grabbing one of yours with both of his. “I miss you so much, I think about you all the time.”

His lashes flutter, fingers brushing along your forearm as he presses his lips to your knuckles and then to your pulse point before leaning forward to rest his forehead on your thigh. You can’t even look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the wall, because your lashes feel wet and heavy and you know that you’ll give into him if you look at him now and he doesn’t deserve that.

“I couldn’t go to you before I left,” Dazai whispers and he sounds oddly coherent now even though you know he’s not. “I would’ve asked you to come with me.”

For some reason, that hurts worse than if he’d just admitted he didn’t care enough to say goodbye. Because what does that even mean, I would’ve asked you to come with me, would that have been so bad? He didn’t want you with him? Why wouldn’t he have wanted you with him? If you had left, he would’ve been the first person you ran to, begging him to come with you.

“How terrible that would’ve been,” you say, and you’re proud that your voice remains cold and steady, not betraying the hurt ripping through your chest.

“I wouldn’t have been able to handle it,” he says, voice breaking over a hiccup. “Odasaku had just died and-”

He cuts himself, and you dare to look down at him when you feel him lift his face from your thigh. You regret it immediately. Glassy, glazed-over eyes beg for you to understand, and you scare yourself because you want to understand when he shouldn’t even matter to you anymore. You’ve moved on. You have. It’s been seven months. He left you without a word. So why do you care so much for what he has to say right now?

“You wouldn’t have come with me,” he says, shaking his head. “You would’ve said no. You never would have chosen me over the Mafia.”

Your lips part to deny the allegations, to say that of course, you would have come with him, but the words fizzle out before they even form on your tongue because-

“You can’t even bring yourself to deny it, can you?” Dazai asks, and although he sounds more cogent now, you can’t help but notice that he’s starting to look sick again, the back of his throat making that faint clicking sound it always makes when he’s about to throw up. “You never would have chosen me.”

You would choose Dazai Osamu over a lot of things. You would choose to save his life before yours if put in the position, and you would choose to trust him over anyone else in the whole world. You’d follow him to the depths of hell and deep into the shadows, until your blood is black and corrupted and you’re entirely irredeemable, but you can’t follow him into the light. 

You can’t choose him if it means betraying the Port Mafia. With his defection, the two have become mutually exclusive: Dazai or the Port Mafia, there’s no way of having both anymore. The boy you’ve come to love or the only home you’ve ever known. The only family you’ve ever had. A shitty family maybe, but a family nonetheless. If you don’t belong with the Port Mafia, you don’t belong anywhere on this earth, and as someone who’s always had a desperate fear of alienation, the thought makes you sick.

You stare at him, throat tight, and then you say, colder than you intend for it to come across, “... If that’s really why you didn’t say goodbye, then I’m glad you didn’t put me in that position.”

The expression that crosses Dazai’s face is something caught between ruin and shock—and you can’t help but wonder if he held out hope, thinking maybe he was wrong in his assumptions. That there had been a chance that you might’ve chosen him if he’d given you the option. That he’s been living his life in the what-ifs for the past seven months and now that he’s finally gotten the chance to bare his heart to you, you’ve crushed it.

Your chest tightens, your throat spasms and it takes all your self-control to not immediately take back the words, regret flooding you so intensely that it nearly makes you physically stumble. Because it’s true, you never would have picked Dazai over the Mafia, but he didn’t have to know that—especially not now, when he’s drunk and vulnerable in a way that he’s never allowed himself to be before.

You hope, for his sake and your conscience, that he doesn’t remember any of this in the morning.

His lips part to respond again but his hand is flying to his mouth instantly, doubling over, and you’re cursing, reaching for the trash bin you’d brought into the bedroom and falling to your knees next to him, helping him kneel upright and holding the trash bin in front of him as he starts gagging again.

“I would’ve-” He’s still trying to talk through the bouts of nausea, gasping over air, body trembling as he leans into you for balance.

You don’t want to hear what he has to say.

“Dazai-”

“I would’ve chosen you,” he finally forced out, voice breaking over the words and you’re not sure if it’s a sob or another heave that escapes his lips as he continues. “If the positions were reversed, I would’ve chosen you.”

Oh.

The words echo in your head so loudly that it makes you want to cover your ears even though you know it won’t do anything. You want to accuse him of lying, tell him that he’s full of shit and just trying to make you feel guilty, but you don’t think he’s capable of lying right now and you don’t think this is anything Dazai would have ever admitted to you if he was sober. He guards his heart more carefully than anyone you’ve ever met—in the two and a half years you’d known him, he never admitted he cared about you. You knew it just from how he treated you, but you think he might’ve ripped his own tongue out before actually admitting it.

You wrap an arm around him as his whole body shudders through another gag and he tries to push you off—angry, upset, you don’t know what he might be feeling because you’ve never seen him like this before—but your arm only tightens around him and Dazai crumbles.

He heaves again, clutching the small garbage can to his face as he throws up all of the water you’d managed to get in him before he passed out earlier. Tears spill over his cheeks, his face is pale and his lashes are fluttering again, on the verge of passing back out. You swallow thickly as he leans into you, letting him collapse into your chest after he’s finished vomiting.

“Will-” he tries to say, but his voice is slurred and weak. He’s desperately trying to stay conscious, you can tell, but he’s fighting a losing battle. “Will you be here in the morning?”

No.

You don’t want to say it, you think you’ve done enough damage for the night, but there’s no need. As soon as the words leave his mouth, Dazai is slumping over unconscious, head laying limp on your arm, lashes brushing his cheek. You sigh as your grip around him tightens before you adjust him in his arms to carry him back into the bed, laying him comfortably beneath the covers.

You don’t linger for long after that. After another hour or two passes and Dazai doesn’t wake up again, you make your way back into the bedroom, raising your hand to his face to brush away the dark locks in his eyes before cupping his cheek. Even in his sleep, he leans into your touch, and it makes your chest feel so agonizingly tight that you think you might be having a heart attack.

You lean down to press your lips to his forehead, to his nose, and then to his lips, indulging yourself one last time. Your forehead rests against his as you consider your words—there are a million things you’d like to say to him before you leave, but you don’t have nearly enough time to get them all off of your chest.

Instead, you tell him softly, “I hope you don’t remember any of this in the morning.” You don’t move your hand from where it’s caressing his cheek as you stand straight again, thumb drawing absent circles on his skin. Your voice is thick with emotion, eyes welling with tears that don’t spill over. “We’ll meet again one day.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning with a hangover so bad that he thinks he might die.

He sits up in bed and is instantly groaning, hand flying to his forehead as his brain throbs inside of his skull. He needs to figure out where he is—the last thing he remembers is…

The bar?

His eyes slide shut as he tries to think, but it only makes his head hurt more. He flops back onto the bed, arms splayed out. He still feels nauseous, he can feel it rising to his throat and he desperately does not want to throw up again—it’s one thing vomiting when he’s too drunk to remember, it’s an entirely different thing to vomit while he’s sober and conscious. 

Dazai thinks he might rather die. 

He lets out a heavy sigh as he begs the nausea to go away, breathing in and out deeply. He lifts his hand to brush a lock of hair away from where it’s tickling his ear and-

Ouch.

Dazai’s eyes fly open again, confused now, as he rips his hand away from where he’d touched his ear to stare up at the ceiling. He’s used to waking up with odd injuries after a night of blacking out at whatever bar will still have him, but his ear is a particularly strange place to be wounded, isn’t it?

Driven by curiosity now, he forces himself into a sitting position, and it’s only when he pushes himself out of bed, does he finally start to recognize the room he’s in. His lips part in a distinct mixture of shock and confusion as he looks around the room slowly, making his way over to the mirror.

The safehouse in Sakae?

His chest feels heavier instantly, and a tight feeling rises to his throat as he catches sight of an old jacket of yours draped on the desk chair, the one that had ripped during the last mission you went on together—just the way you left it the last time the two of you were here. A pair of his old dress shoes are lying haphazardly outside the closet door, he’s sure that if he peeks into the closet, all of your suits will be hanging there because you refused to share the closet with him so all of his spares are stuffed in the dresser. Dazai suddenly feels sick again and he doubts it’s from the hangover this time.

How did he get here?

He needs another drink desperately.

But first… Dazai leans over the dresser to look into the mirror—a bit dusty after so many months with no one stopping in—he lifts his hand to brush his hair behind and then-

What?

His jaw drops and his brows furrow, his fingers graze over where the top of his ear used to be, only to find the whole upper quarter of it missing. 

What the fuck? He mouths as he stares at the missing cartilage, and then he looks back around the room, and just as his eyes catch a trash bin that should be in the bathroom, his vision blurs, and his head is aching. He’s suddenly stumbling down an alley, he’s lying in a puddle of his own vomit, unable to stand up straight. He can hear someone approaching and he knows he should get up, find some dumpster or crevice to wait out the night until he’s sober enough to get the fuck out of the heart of the Mafia’s territory in Yokohama, but he can hardly move.

He can lift his head from the pavement just enough to-

Just enough to see you.

Dazai can hardly cope with the emotions that rattle his chest. Longing, because he’s missed you so terribly the past seven months. Disbelief, because you shot his fucking ear off. And… and Dazai isn’t quite sure what the other emotions are. They’re heavy and light at the same time, his chest feels bubbly but his ankles feel chained—it’s a weird mixture of hope and dread, he thinks, because the safehouse is eerily quiet, seemingly void of any life other than Dazai himself, but the chance that you might still be here…

“Will you be here in the morning?”

The faint memory of the last words he spoke before he passed out the last time rings through his head, and his feet drag against the ground as he forces himself to move from the bedroom into the main room of the safe house. His fingers hesitate against the wood of the door—scared that he’s going to open it and you won't be there, scared that he’s going to open it and you will be there. He doesn’t remember the things he said to you last night, but he knows that he’d been staring at old pictures the two of you took before he blacked out. He can hardly imagine the things he might’ve said to you when given the chance.

It takes all of his strength and all of his willpower to push open the door. 

It takes even more to actually step out of the bedroom.

The safe house is empty.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Dazai’s feet are moving before he’s fully even registered what’s happening.

He makes his way into the kitchen to rummage around for another bottle for him to drown away his sorrows, but he doesn’t pull out the untouched bottle of his favorite whiskey he knows is sitting in the cabinet—he goes straight for the wine fridge. He nearly shatters three bottles of whites before he finally gets his hands on your favorite red, the one you’d asked him to stock up in there for you three days before he left, knowing that the two of you had a mission coming up and you’d be celebrating here, as always. Not knowing that he’d have betrayed you by then. 

He struggles to uncork it, the frustration causing his headache to return with a vengeance. It takes an embarrassingly long amount of time for him to finally get the bottle open, but when he does, he brings it to his lips immediately, eyes sliding shut as he downs a few generous gulps.

The taste is familiar. Pleasant. It makes his heart ache with such an intense longing for you that it nearly makes him throw up.

He can almost imagine that he’s tasting it off of your lips instead.

He leans over the counter, elbows digging into the marble as he tries to push away the ugly feelings ripping apart his chest. He can’t. He never can. He hasn’t been able to since the day he left you behind seven months ago. He can only numb it.

With a hand closed around the neck of the bottle, Dazai slides down the cabinet to sit on the ground. His cheeks feel wet, but he doesn’t dare lift his hand to acknowledge the tears sliding down them.

Instead, he lifts the bottle to his lips again and drowns himself in the memories of you for another night. 

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

[zumek0]

draft 04; dostoevsky, f.

↪︎ fluff, fedya having a soft spot for his lover, reader is sick, gn reader, written with a fem reader in mind tho, references to irl dostoevsky’s life, surprise angst at the end, mentions of death.

↝ summary: when you become ill and are unable to fall asleep, he reads to you. the action feeling both familiar and distant to him.

You sneeze. Four times, actually.

You getting sick was highly inconvenient for Fyodor, as it prevented you from fulfilling your duties as a member of the Rats in the House of the Dead. He had to disregard plans and work his way around being down not only a member, but also the best assassin in the organization. Not to mention how it not only affected his organization, but also the Decay of Angels.

As annoyed as he was with the whole situation, seeing you in such a miserable state didn't bring him any kind of joy. On the contrary, he felt his heart hurt when he saw your teary eyes and heard your hoarse voice. Not that he would ever let you know that.

He stands up from his office set up and heads to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He can't concentrate, so he decides that he might as well check up on you. That is, of course, because he needs you to get better so you can get back to work immediately, and not because he heard you cough a little too much and a little too hard.

He places the glass on the bedside table. He hears you thank him weakly. "Are you okay?" he asks uninterestedly but scans your face for any kind of discomfort. "Tired..." you sneeze after you answer.

"Then sleep." He hands you a tissue, which you barely muster enough energy to take.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Fyodor sighs and then leaves the room. Your eyes start tearing up again, this time because you want him to stay with you. The whole image is comical: a killer as cold and ruthless as you, crying miserably because their boyfriend wouldn't spend time with them? Even if someone were to see it with their own eyes, it would be hard to believe.

Fyodor returns to the room with a book in hand. The cover torn and creased from the passage of time. It is Fyodor's favorite. Even if he rarely touched it, you knew he held a great fondness for that book in particular.

He lays down in the bed and looks at you expectantly. While your moves are slow, he waits patiently for you to make yourself comfortable against his chest. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked away slowly..."

His soft voice and regular heartbeat lulled you asleep.

A young dark haired man lies kneeling at the foot of his bed. His head is hung low and his fingers are intertwined. After he finishes his prayer with an "Amen", he gets up and heads for his mother's room.

He enters quietly and finds his father already there, sitting on a chair by his mother's side. Her head turns upon hearing the door opening and a warm yet tired smile makes home on her face.

"Fedyen'ka." Her voice, although strained and tired, sounds happy to see him. "Come here, my angel. Your father and I have something for you."

He is given a book.

On a late night while talking to his mother, he had entrusted her with the knowledge of his passion for literature. Talking about some of the books he had managed to get his hands on, weather by acquaintances of his lending him some, or by the old man in the shoe shop who let him stay a couple of hours after his work ended just so he could read some of the books that he kept in the backroom of his store. That night his mother promised him that for his sixteenth birthday, she would get him a book of his own.

She had never broken a promise, yet there were still two months until his birthday. Fyodor understood at that moment that his mother was probably going to die before that.

A simple "Thank you." is all he could muster.

That night he was unable to sleep. His father went out to tend to some business, so the house would've been completely silent if it weren't for the coughs of his mother.

He gets out of bed, grabbing the book from the wooden dresser next to the door to his room. When he enters his mother's room, the coughing stops.

"Oh, Fedechka, did I wake you up?"

"No, mother." He takes a glass of water from a table nearby and puts it up to her lips. She takes a few sips. "Are you unable to sleep?" She nods.

He leaves the glass back on the table and grabs his book. His mother's gaze follows him as he moves to sit on the chair where her husband usually sat beside her. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July..."

She falls asleep with a smile on her face as she listens to her son's voice.

Two days later, Maria Fedorovna Dostoevsky would pass away.

Fun fact: i spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to understand which Russian pet names and nicknames are most common, just to end up not using any because in my head they’re already speaking Russian.

If you recognize what he's reading, ur hot. Ahhh I'm so in love with fedya, but i’m not sure if i like how this turned out...

— han.

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