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kentopedia · 8 months

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˚☽˚｡⋆ shining like gunmetal

dazai x f!reader, 3.0k words

summary — dazai comes home late, covered in someone's blood

contents — pm reader & pm boss dazai, references to violence / torture lol, sfw !!, the plot is basically cleaning blood off dazai

notes — i thought this would help me get pm dazai out of my system, but i fear i may have to write another nsfw piece for that

Each turn of the clock became longer and longer as you watched the seconds tick down, signaling that another minute had passed. The sun had long since set; your dining room was illuminated only by candles, creating a romantic ambiance throughout the penthouse.

Across from you, an empty seat sat, its usual inhabitant absent. An array of food scattered across the table, far too much for just one person to eat. Perhaps, even, there would be leftovers for days after.

Your housekeeper, Izumi, set the last plate of hot food on the table, her eyes nervous as she flitted back to you, then to the spot where Dazai usually sat. While her usual duties did not include cooking, you’d recruited her that evening, hopeful that she could help you prepare all of Dazai’s favorite dishes.

You'd just wanted to do something special for your beloved, and he wasn’t even there to enjoy it.

Steam lingered on each of the platters, but it was quickly wafting away, evaporating into the cool air of the Yokohama evening. All of your hard work over the past few hours would seem insignificant if the Port Mafia's boss didn’t return before the meal cooled completely.

You drummed your fingers against the table, trying hard not to give in to your annoyance.

“He’s late.” You spoke the words to no one in particular, an observation that anyone could discern with their own two eyes.

Still, you kept your gaze harsh on the empty seat, as if willing Dazai to materialize from thin air.

The comment still seemed to shake Izumi from a trance, even if it had been nothing more than the obvious. She twisted her fingers together, flattening her top farther over her waist band. Although she was one of the only people in the mafia that saw the softer side of Dazai, the one he reserved just for you, she was still overwhelmingly intimidated by him.

“I’m sorry, miss,” she said, even though you always reminded her that it was fine to address you by your name. “I can take it back into the kitchen and—”

You stopped her with a sigh, shaking your head before letting it drop into your hands. “No need. I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” you assured her, but it was already ten minutes past seven—the hour that Dazai had said he’d be back for dinner.

Usually, you wouldn’t have minded. You knew that Dazai was busy, that the tasks piled onto him were unending and overwhelming. Even though you hated seeing him overwork himself, it was always alright. He never took his stress out on you and always showered you with affection upon his return from a long day.

Tonight, though, he’d promised that he’d be there, right on time, for dinner. You agreed upon that hour beforehand, and he still hadn’t showed.

Izumi looked at your disappointed expression, knowing how much the small moments with Dazai meant to you. You never doubted that you were the most important person in his life, and you never would.

Despite that steadfast belief, you still ached when his work began to cut in on his time with you.

“Give him a couple more minutes,” Izumi said, smiling as she squeezed your arm gently. She was just a few years older than you, but there was a motherly glint to her eyes when she regarded you, her affection just barely veiled.

Over the past few years, you’d persuaded her to see you as more than just her employer, at the very least. There would always been a thin shield of professionalism between you, but now, you considered her something of a friend.

You dispelled all your irritation on a steady exhale and did as she suggested, waiting five more minutes. The heat began to dissipate from the cooling food, the plates and bowls no longer hot to the touch.

The time reached 7:15. Izumi returned from the kitchen again with a frown, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?” She asked, sympathetic to your spoiled night, her usually bright eyes dimming.

You stood, the chair screeching as you pushed it away. Though it seemed like such a small issue compared to all the other dilemmas you’d faced with Dazai, the burning desire of tears began to make its way up your throat.

You shook your head, standing taller, trying to remind yourself that someone proud enough to stand next to Dazai wouldn’t cry about something so inconsequential.

“I’ll take it to my room, if you don’t mind,” you said, and Izumi nodded, smiling at you, softly, but without the pity that she knew you hated.

She made her way to your seat, to gather up a plate to bring to you in a moment. Though, she didn’t get far in her task, and you didn’t make it out of the room. Seconds later, Dazai was pushing open the door, his footsteps sharp in the otherwise quiet hall.

You looked up at him, frowning, a complaint already parting your lips as you assessed his appearance.

Dazai’s shirt was undone, his hair a mess, stands stuck to his forehead, creasing at unusual ends. He was covered in blood from head to toe, the deep color staining his crisp white top. It had splattered against his cheek, his suit, even on his shoes, creating an intimidating vision of gore. The bandages around his wrists had loosened, soaked a muddy brown from the oxidation. Dazai’s tie had also been discarded, the dark silk peeking out of his pocket.

Despite the violence of his appearance, his eyes were soft as he headed to you, unbothered by anything else in the room. “I’m so sorry I’m late, my love,” he apologized profusely, his voice low and gentle, eyes crestfallen in a way that had you forgiving him on the spot.

Still, you pinned him with your gaze, letting him feel every second of those fifteen minutes you'd believed that he’d forgotten his promise. The distance between you felt cold, even when there was hardly any of it between you.

“You told me you’d be here,” you said with a frown. The food had continued to cool. All you’d wanted was to give him an ounce of kindness in his world of endless hurt.

“I know.” Bloodied, delicate fingers were on your elbow, barely grazing your skin as he attempted to ease you into him. “I really am sorry. I got caught up with something.”

You were no stranger to his definition of something.

Dazai began to lean in, hopeful that he could erase your worries with a kiss, but you held an arm out, keeping him away.

“Don’t kiss me with blood on your face,” you said, the bite only reaching the end of your sentence, even if it didn’t fully reflect your emotions. A desperate desire to be near him battled every move you made.

“It was an apology kiss.” Dazai's bottom lip curled into a pout.

You refused to be swayed by the vulnerability in his wide brown eyes. “I don’t want it.”

He glowered for a moment longer, trying to topple your pride. When he got nowhere, he gestured towards your seat, hoping you'd take your place once more.

“Fine,” he said dramatically. "I’ll pretend that didn’t hurt my feelings.”

You wrinkled your brow, displeased by the insinuation that you would carry on as normal.

Wearily, Dazai leaned against the chair, and waited. When you did nothing, he pushed it back in, eyeing you skeptically. “Do you not want to eat anymore?” He asked, frowning. It seemed he was not upset, but unsure of where you stood on the matter.

You made a face. “I can’t sit across the table from you and have a cheerful dinner conversation while you’ve got someone else’s blood coating your entire body.”

Dazai looked down, as if only realizing for the first time that he was stained ruby red. “The food will get cold, darling.”

“You should’ve been on time, then.” It came out more clipped than you meant it to, and Dazai just stared back, his expression terse as you communicated silently.

Izumi, finally, made her presence known as she cleared her throat, directing both of your attentions back to her. “I can warm it,” she said, darting her eyes away when Dazai’s piercing gaze reached her. “If you’d like.”

Dazai began to object, but you spoke over him, knowing his abrasive words would only upset her. Instead, you laced your fingers with his to drag him out of the dining room. “Thank you, Izumi. We’ll only be a minute.”

You shuttled him into the bathroom, and Dazai remained uncharacteristically quiet, gauging your mood as you shut the door behind the two of you.

“Sit,” you said, perching him at the edge of the sink. Dazai blinked, but said nothing. His long legs stretched against the cabinets, feet reaching the floor, even as he rested his weight on the countertop.

You maneuvered around the bathroom, opening cabinets and shutting drawers, feeling Dazai's watchful eyes on you.

“You look beautiful,” he said, smiling, allowing his infatuation to consume him completely, now that you were alone. “As always. That dress looks particularly stunning on you, though. You should wear it more often.” He tried to lure you in by the waist, but you dodged him once more, letting him huff in annoyance.

"Thank you," you said, barely above a whisper, and left him sitting in the bathroom alone.

Hastily, you returned to your bedroom, rummaging through his closet for a clean top. Though he had so many of the same styles, you settled on a silk, black button-up, one that would pair nicely with your own evening gown.

When you returned, Dazai was leaning against the mirror, eyes closed, the dirtied and discarded bandages ripped from his face.

Over the past few weeks, his hair had grown longer, curling around his jaw and over his eyebrows, thick and tangled from whatever damage he’d inflicted before coming home to you.

Yet, you softened at the sight of him so open, wishing you could take even an ounce of that stress off his shoulders.

As he breathed, evenly and slowly, you ran a washcloth under the water, warming it. You could feel Dazai’s eyes on you as you hummed, busying yourself with the task at hand.

“I can’t tell if you’re actually mad at me or not,” he said, and though he forced out a laugh, the concern in his eyes was more real than he wanted you to believe. “I really am sorry.”

It was almost amusing that this was the man everyone in the city feared. When people looked at Dazai, it was never with affection, never with the deepest humanity within your own heart. Even when he’d always had so much love to give, just nowhere to put it until he'd met you.

Perhaps, in another universe, life had been kinder to him.

You exhaled and relaxed, offering him the smallest of smiles. The wash cloth foamed with soap as you poured it, a fresh aroma of honey and vanilla fusing into the space between you.

“I’m not mad, Osamu,” you said, and he visibly relaxed, hooking his ankles around yours while you stood between his thighs. “I was more disappointed than anything. I hate missing out on time with you.” You frowned and brushed the hair off his forehead, tucking longer strands behind his ears. “Will you take a break every once in a while?”

Dazai melted under your soft touch, preening with a cheeky grin. “Of course I will.” He brushed his thumb over your cheeks, dark eyelashes fanning the sharp bones of his face as he stared, astonished by your care. “I’ve been busy this week, and I apologize. Just say the word, and I’m yours for a day, a week, a month.” He exhaled, unsteadily. “All you have to do is ask.”

You smiled, and though you wouldn't ask for so much time with him, not when things were so hectic with the mafia, it was nice to know that you could.

Slowly, you ran the cloth over the splattered blood, wiping it off inch by inch. His skin tone returned to normal, the deep red stain erasing.

“What happened this time?”

Dazai sighed, dropping his chin to his chest, releasing every ounce of cruelty from his being. It was so hard to reconcile the two sides of him. He was sweet to you, caring and gentle. But you’d seen him when he was out of your embrace, faced with an enemy, a subordinate that hadn’t followed rules. He so swiftly morphed into someone that was cruel, merciless, offering them a smile only in mockery.

“Some idiot was leaking information to another group,” Dazai said, tracing patterns on your hips. “If he would’ve been smart, he would’ve realized he never had access to anything of substance. I don’t know why risking his position with us was worth some extra pocket money.”

You frowned. “It took you this long to figure out his plans?” It seemed impossible that anyone could have something to hold over Dazai.

He laughed darkly, no humor within in. “I had a few eyes on him, but I was waiting for some definitive proof. He’s been here for quite a while, and he questioned why he never promoted.”

Dazai rolled his eyes, never understanding how people could be so foolish, could let emotions rule their decisions over logic.

You nodded, understanding as you wiped his lips clean, erasing all traces of blood from his pores. Once his skin was fresh, he leaned forward, capturing you in a kiss that nearly had you dropping the cloth back into the sink.

Dazai pulled away, smoothly, even when you had been left breathless. “Don’t worry about it, my love.”

“The mafia is important to me too." You scrunched your features. “If something’s going on, I want to know.”

Dazai smiled lazily, leaning back onto the counter, the picture of nonchalance. “If I really thought it was worth getting worked up about, I’d tell you.” He curled a piece of your hair around his finger, playing with it idly. “Why? You think I don’t trust my favorite girl?”

You stiffened, defensive, before releasing your shoulders once more, dropping your gaze to his chest. Slowly, you began to undo the buttons of his top, the threads so stained that it was beyond repair. “I don’t know, Osamu. You keep so many secrets. Sometimes I’m not sure.”

Dazai was quiet, eyebrows raised as he assessed you. When you reached the fourth button of his top, he grabbed your wrist, forcing your attention back to him.

“I don’t keep secrets from you, sweetheart.” He tugged you closer, curling the other arm around your back, skirting between your shoulder blades. Dazai dipped his head, tenderly kissing your fragile collarbone, the touch so airy that it sent your heart racing. “You’re the only person I really trust. If I thought you actually wanted to know every gory detail about the torment I inflicted, then I’d tell you.”

You breathed in, closing your eyes to steady yourself. It didn’t take much for Dazai to remind you of every reason you’d ever loved him.

“I don’t care about that,” you said as Dazai rested his forehead against your own, keeping his eyes on yours’ even when your gaze was pinned to his chest. He released his soft grip to let you continue your task, and you were swallowing, onto the fifth button. “It was just a passing comment.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t ever want you to think that I’m hiding things from you,” he said, fiercely.

You shrugged. “I would understand if there were things you couldn’t tell me. It doesn’t upset me.” When the shirt finally became undone completely, you slid it off Dazai’s shoulders, wadding it up into a ball to discard.

He straightened, replacing the dirtied white top with the darker, softer one. “I can tell you whatever I want.” He scoffed, sliding the black buttons through the holes. “I’m the boss.”

“I just assumed the boss would have highly classified information that had to be contained to a select group of individuals.”

Dazai made a face at you, like your statement was completely ridiculous. He stood to his full height, tilting your chin up towards him with one long, slender finger.

“Well then, someone should’ve told you that the boss’s wife is never excluded from that group." Dazai smiled at the flush on your cheeks when you allowed yourself to indulge in his touch. “You are my equal. There is nothing in this world that’s more important to me than you. Nothing of mine that doesn’t belong to you as well.”

Sometimes, you felt undeserving of his affection. It was hard to believe that the man who owned half the city would hand that power over to you willingly, if only you asked.

Though, that grain of doubt lingered in your mind was poison, and you would fight it for as long as Dazai loved you truly. Instead, you smiled, cupping his cheek before standing on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead. “Forgive me if I forget from time to time.”

Dazai laughed and shook off your grip so he could sling an arm around your shoulder. He was still wearing the dirtied pants, but the blood had dried, and your stomach longed for the meal that you knew was waiting for you. You could let it slide, if only this one time.

“I’ll try to remind you more often,” he said, lips grazing your temple. “I really am sorry I was late for dinner, angel. It won't happen again.”

You laced your hand with his own free one. The touch was backwards and awkward, your palm cupping the back of his knuckles. You just needed to be closer to him, to feel the touch of his warm skin and know that, for now, his time was only your own.

With a honeyed look, you whispered the words close to his ear, slow and seductive. “I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.”

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heycharrr · 3 months

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«There's such beauty inside of me»

#art #artwork #digital art #sketch #my art #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #artists on tumblr #dazai x reader #pm dazai #beast dazai #beast #bsd fanart #bungou stray dogs

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chuunai · 3 months

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I had an idea for the 100 followers thingy- so like the babies thing but you’re a single mother (maybe teen mom?) and dazai (pm) falls in love with you and your baby :} ps- I LOVE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF SUGAR 💗‼️‼️‼️

I’m trying I swear TvT

✧˚ · . you’re a virgin and I’m just a meth head - pm! dazai osamu

the new hire at the port mafia interests him. the baby, too.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of teen pregnancy, reader and PM! dazai are seventeen, SFW, mentions of a former abusive relationship, mentions of suicide (it’s fucking dazai), happy ending.

Assistants were something he never cared for much.

They came and go, either requesting to work for a different department in the Port Mafia after witnessing his peculiarities or dying. He hadn’t ever formed any bonds with them. Hell, he hardly knew their names. Dazai preferred to give them childish nicknames such as ‘four-eyes’ for the ones with glasses or ‘baldy’ for the ones who had barely began balding.

No use in actually getting to know them.

All they were good for anyway was organizing his work and making a schedule of meetings and pointless missions he’d hardly follow. And what could they do? Nothing.

Once, he had attempted to get Ango to apply for the job during an outing at Bar Lupin, but that four-eyes declined. So did Oda. Geez, his friends lacked faith in him. Dazai wasn’t that bad of a boss. His subordinates didn’t die that often compared to the others.

Then again, his most recent assistant had died via overdosing. Straight from the Port Mafia’s warehouses, too. Dying of his own stupidity because karma struck him down. The high may have been sending him to the clouds, but he got too close to the sun just as Icarus did and burned—or in this case, vomited—to death. Fun.

A replacement would be needed, yes, but that would involve looking through so many applications and that was boring compared to strangling himself or pulling Chuuya’s hair when the redhead was speaking with Kouyou.

He’d pick irritating the slug over paperwork any day. At least one was fun.

So he just had Mori pick one out. As long as they wouldn’t be a nuisance and knew their place, he didn’t care who it was. Boy, girl, whatever. All ages welcomed. Dazai preferred younger though. The old farts were annoying and so utterly dumb! So when a subordinate gave him a file for his new assistant, he didn’t think anything of it. He always got those for record keeping.

Although this particular individual piqued his interest as his eyes gazed over the information attached.

The age was young—seventeen, same as him. A girl. According to the report, you were previously stationed as a secretary for some lower ranking member. And you’d just joined, too. Only a few blissful months ago. Just barely a baby in the crime world. All dewy-eyed and truly unknowing of the dark underbelly of Yokohama.

Most interesting, though, and the thing that struck his curiosity was the fact that a small sticky note was attached to the last page.

‘Single mother of eight month old girl’

There weren’t many parents in the Mafia, much less teenage ones. Nobody had time to have a baby with the lack of safety. But you did. Someone desperate enough to provide for their child to the point where they joined an illegal organization without even being an adult yet. That took will and selflessness. Something he lacked.

And without having even met you yet, Dazai found himself fascinated by you.

Murmuring your name to himself, he found himself a bit startled at how smooth it rolled off his tongue. He liked it, too. Your name was nice to say.

Tossing the file onto his desk carelessly, Dazai tapped his fingers on the desk, mind wandering once more. If you had a child then you’d probably work your best to support them. You’d be competent enough for him.

Apparently competent enough to the point where you felt like you could handle bringing the baby to the Mafia HQ.

“I don’t remember hiring two assistants.”

Dazai’s voice came out as slightly amused and startled. There you were, standing in-front of his desk while occasionally shushing your…daughter? It looked like a girl, anyway.

“Sorry- her sitter wasn’t available and I-“

His eyes stared at your reddening cheeks—embarrassment and shame, he could tell—as you spoke again.

“I don’t really have anyone to watch her. I’m so sorry, sir.”

Sir? You called him sir? That made him wave his hand a bit dismissively. The only people who called him ‘sir’ were the random grunts and gunmen that served under him. Or people who were scared shitless of him.

“Dazai. Not sir.”

Sitting up languidly, his uncovered eye focused on the baby. Curls of dark hair fell over her forehead while her tiny hands grabbed at your shirt and hair. Funny, he thought.

“And the baby can stay.”

She reminded him of some of the orphans Oda took care of. Especially Sakura. Maybe they had the same name, too. Unlikely, though. She didn’t look like a Sakura, really.

Picking up a pen, he pointed it at you, a small smile on her face.

“Speaking of, may I know her mother’s name?”

He knew it already. But it felt more right if he convinced himself you told him.

“Oh! Yes, uhm, I’m (L/N) (Y/N). And her name,” Tapping your baby’s forehead, she released a small coo, giggling slightly. “is (L/N) Yukirou.”

“Winter baby, huh. I’ll guess, December 16th?”

This was so much fun for him so far. Maybe Yukirou really could be his second assistant. As a joke, of course.

Nodding, you began to ramble on about the baby as he relaxed back in his chair, spinning around and making funny faces at Yukirou. The small child giggled and outreached her fingers to him, probably infatuated by his bandages and messy hair. He didn’t touch her, though. No need to let such a good small thing interact with a person like him.

And so minutes went by. Technically, he should’ve been doling out tasks and trying to kill himself again—he had heard of a technique where one could inject apple juice into their neck and die, but he wasn’t sure it’d work—but it slipped out of his grasp. Maybe it was the fact you two were so close in age. The fact that in another universe you could’ve been classmates fueled this moment. Dazai didn’t really know people his age other than Chuuya, but Chuuya was Chuuya. You were new.

New to everything in this line of business. The killing, the release of morals. Then again, you were just an assistant. You’d never directly be involved with that. Just helping him out with whatever was needed.

Dazai thought that was a smart choice, whether or not you intended for it to be. As an assistant, you’d be safe from the gunfire and outermost threats. More likely to live and protect your daughter.

So caring in a line of work where lives were dispensable.

He wondered how you got there. Not to the Port Mafia—the file told him. But how you took on such a frowned upon job to solely provide for your child. Was the father a deadbeat? Or actually dead? His father was the same. Dead five years into Dazai’s life.

His mother tried her best, but she died too and he slipped onto Mori’s grasp. Hopefully your baby wouldn’t end up in the same situation.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by one of his men who dropped off a load of documents, side-eyeing you before leaving.

Dazai wished you hadn’t turned the conversation back to work.

“Sir, sorry- Dazai-san, would you like me to organize the papers..?”

Why did he forget that you were just an assistant of his? The medication must be making his mind woozy again.

“By date and incident, yep. Also, if you see any that mentioned a Chuuya, please throw them out. Or burn them. Preferably the burning part.”

His office was always to be kept rid of that ginger.

“On it.”

And so he doodled a noose on the wood of his desk while you slowly put the papers away. It soon became clear to him that Yukirou was making the job a tad difficult by trying to grab at the papers.

A slight idea of letting her crawl loose in Mori’s office and destroying it entered his mind, but it quickly left.

“Y’know, if she’s being a devil, I can play with her for a bit. I swear I’ll be good!”

The words left him before he could really process them. Next thing he knew he was wearing the baby carrier with tiny fingers pulling at his shirt. Instructions poured from your lips as he nodded and patted the baby’s back.

“I’ll kill you if anything goes wrong.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of that. You? Kill him? Never going to happen. Unless it were a double suicide, but you probably wouldn’t say yes.

And he replied when the slight fear in your eyes registered after remembering that he was your boss in the Mafia.

“If course, cutie. I give you permission to kill me if theoretically anything goes wrong.”

Dazai made sure to sneak a peek at your reddening cheeks before leaving his office with the baby strapped to his chest and tugging at his bandages like a little snake.

That’s how it all started. A boy and a girl who happened to have a baby.

He’d never regret how months went by as you two became closer and closer. Joking around, complaining about work, all the stuff friends did. Hell, Dazai even watched Yukirou sometimes.

Thank god Chuuya wasn’t there to see him watching children’s cartoons on your couch with a baby in his lap and a stuffed animal in the other.

Or how he insisted on covering some of your rent when you were struggling. Yukirou needs a home, after all. He sees himself in her a bit. And he didn’t want her to turn out like him. If he couldn’t change his own life for the better, he’d change hers.

And yours.

Much better than that dickhead that fathered Yukirou. You told Dazai about it one night when he stayed over after babysitting once more. Yukirou was napping in her nursery, and you two were sitting on the couch just talking.

Talking turned into sharing details of your lives, and he came up. Your old flame who ditched you. Breaking a promise that he’d be there for the baby and you. Dazai was silent all throughout it. Quiet when you spoke of the emotional abuse and stress that you had, quiet when you began crying over the fact you never got to graduate high school.

He was just there, daring to awkwardly rub your back as you vented. He wondered if you had talked about it before. Probably not.

Dazai felt like he too needed to share a story of his childhood too in exchange for yours. So he told you about the poor neighborhood he grew up in and the horrors he saw daily.

Did it lessen the impact of your venting? Most likely, but in his opinion, he was trying to show you that he trusted you now too. He assumed it worked when you fell asleep on his shoulder. He took care of Yukirou when she woke crying an hour later. He would’ve been a much better father than that bastard.

It didn’t help either that Yukirou began to see him as her daddy. He was there when she turned a year old, gifting her all sorts of things. Scolding her when she nibbled on his hands. Doing nearly everything a dad would.

Even when she managed to say ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ for the first time, it was when all three of you were in the room together. In her tiny mind, it was her family. Her mama and Dazai—her papa. Oda congratulated him for becoming a father when you came along one day with him to Bar Lupin.

It didn’t live up to Chuuya’s reaction when he first heard one of his guys call Dazai a doting father. The shortstack had gone up to him asking if he really was Yukirou’s dad—rumors went around at HQ quickly—and Dazai had to sadly reply that he wasn’t. Sometimes he wished he was. Months of time with you led to nights in bed where he dreamed of a universe that he was really the dad. That Yukirou had his brown eyes instead of her dad’s blue ones.

It wasn’t fair.

Nor were his growing feelings.

Dazai was smart. A genius thinker and planner. So of course he noticed how his heart began to rapidly beat around you. The sweating of his usually cold hands.

He’d had crushes in the past, sure. But it didn’t equate to this. Such a strong connection only made it worse. Was it wrong his Google history lately was filled with questions about confessing to and dating a single mom?

Did you even like him back?

That question couldn’t be answered by anyone but you. It scared him. You probably didn’t. Not as more than a brother, anyway. His suicidal ideation and tendencies scared off any woman who wanted more than sex. But he probably wouldn’t be living long anyway. So he’d have to shoot his shot eventually.

Which he did after another five months of consideration and thought. Dazai committed this act by simply asking you to sort out some notes for him. A total of eight. Each one had a single word on it. If you correctly put them together, it spelled:

‘I like you. Do you like me back?’

Much to his relief and shock, you did. You did, and he had hugged you so tightly. Tightening their bond, too.

So he became your boyfriend. And he wore the title of ‘dad’ to Yukirou gladly. The little girl saw him as her papa, and he couldn’t deny it. Even if it wasn’t biologically, she was his. And yours.

Dazai’s life used to be mundane and slow, yet with his new…family, he felt genuine happiness for once. A reason to live.

That was the greatest gift he could receive of all.

Regular Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts.

Tags for everyone who interacted with this post (it’s over 100): @walking-simp, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @heartsfourdazai, @cheriiyaya, @depressed-monarch, @nyxt0t, @baby-tini, @h0nk3rs, @internet-angell, @cupidszvlvr, @owosamu, @my-dear-melancholy, @dazaibae, @nekomafumafufan18-blog, @cvsmois, @lizsano, @nanamiinto, @inojuuy, @reomarys, @mayanakahara, @briiscoolig, @maislovebot, @syona-sachyo, @xieqq2, @angelof-darkness, @moriiko, @fuckthisfuckingshit, @daushu, @wrynue, @amnda-ft-fyodor, @rain-alucard, @hanayoshiii, @moemoekunn, @thatwasa, @miiiloo, @probablyzombiedinosaurs, @mauviese, @chips-and-vinegar, @https-dazai, @rragudoru, @leyla3x0, @cheetozai, @jillyfsh, @rylerboi, @linaaeatsfamilies, @zorizoras, @onlinewhisper14, @komicoral, @anim3-simps, @theoddsinner, @caayye, @scaramow, @such-a-silly-little-gy, @bunnybs-stuff, @psychiclovecollective, @sleepy-yumi516, @fromjas, @suzurans-world, @mrstengenuzui, @mitislm, @tealover111, @edgarallanpoeswifey, @baby-tini, @yaz4luvv, @deliciouscandysalad, @isrealityevenreal, @briefcreationcandy, @astr3eaa, @underscoredaniii, @nolongerhooman, @notalooo, @ratinawetsocksweater, @tomiroro,

Rest in comments I’m crying now also if your tag is white it’s because you didn’t pop up when I was doing the @‘s

#bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuunai #fanfic #fem reader #pm dazai #dazaibsd #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #fluff #bsd fluff #bsd tag #bsd #okay it’s lowkey shorter also might update later when I’m not about to pass out

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lotomber · 3 months

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Hear me owwwwt pm! Dazai with a teen mom reader (17 or 18?) and he became a an AMAZING stepfather but when bio dad comes demanding custody he insults dazai for only being the stepdad and not the bio dad….(I think dazai would beat the shit out of him lmaooo) BUT ALSO he decides to put a baby in YOU just to show everyone his sperm is better.

Dazai with a teen single mom!

T/W: Nsfw, explicit content, Teen mom Reader!(18y/o), Pm! Dazai, Shitty ex!, teenage pregnancy, rough sex, piv, semi public sex, voyeurism, breeding kink, creampie, mentions of murder, not proof read!

It was hard being a single mother moreover when you were a teenager. Your boyfriend went MIA when you told him you were pregnant. You met Dazai when you were working part time and he was instantly drawn to you, something about you mesmerized him. It didn't took him long to befriend you and how could he leave you alone when you told him about how you work alone to take care of your toddler? He instantly offered to help you, you hesitated at first but contrary to your worries he was a loving partner and an amazing father to your daughter 'Hana'. He spoils her rotten, buys her tons of clothes and toys (afterall mafia pays him well), makes sure to pick her up from playschool when you are busy, and he just loves to play with her. One thing he really loved about Hana was the fact that she absolutely resembled you not her shitty father. At first it just started with his simple interest in you but as he spend more time with you and Hana he would desperately wish that you three could be a family forever, something he never thought he could have. And how could you not fall for him when he always did more than you could have ever asked for?

But all shit fell down when your ex came back crawling demanding custody of your daughter. You told him that your daughter only has one father and that is Dazai. But he just scornfully told Dazai that he was just being a stupid cuckold cause he's not even biologically her father and no matter what he will just remain a stranger. You were distraught by his shamelessness but you trusted Dazai when he told you he would handle this.

"Aah Sa-Samu slow down" But you didn't knew it would involve you bending over table in his office while his cock mercilessly pumps in and out of your tight cunt. How did you even get in this situation?

After dropping off Hana at playschool you got a call from Dazai asking you to come at his office. You thought it was weird cause he never really called you to his office. But as soon as you reached there he just bended you over his table, lifting your skirt to your waist while sliding your panties down to your knees. He pushes his whole length with one thrust filling you to the brink. You moan sharply and gasp for breathe as his pace does not falter.

"F-fuck donna you're so tight, so pretty f'me, just f'me." he grunts. You scratch the mahogany trying to gain some stability as the pleasure was overwhelming you. You try to muffle your voice but of course Dazai's didn't liked it so gave he gave a particular hard thrust making you scream.

"S-shit bella, so warm and tight, you want my seed right? I'm gonna knock you up full of my seeds!" you couldn't even comprehend what he was saying at this point anymore as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach and with a few more rough thrusts you came all over him.

"You like it bella don't you? I'm sure hana would also like a little sibling hmm right?." He grunts as there was a weird thumping noise from the back closet in the office. He increased his pace ramming more harshly than before as room is filled with the Squelching noises of your pussy and his wet balls. You feel him twitching as he shoot thick ropes of cum inside you. You gasp from the overstimulation as he keeps pumping his cock making sure you take his load well and it doesn't spill out.

All while you were unknown to the fact that your ex was stuffed in the back closet of Dazai's office. Before calling you over to his office he tied and gagged him, stuffing him in the closet. Why? Of course because dazai had to show your ex who you belonged to and that you will bear his children for him. He made him listen all this on purpose to remind him of his place before disposing him from this world.

Tags: @mberxo, @xxcandlelightxx

A/n: anyone who wants to join my taglist can send in an ask!

This supposed to be a drabble but it came out longer than expected anyways hope you enjoy it nonie! <;3

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seratopia · 10 months

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hobie brown x reader (fluff) - eyeliner → she/her pronouns!

hobie loves asking you to do eye makeup for him

"Sweets! C'mere for a sec!"

Your ears perk up when you hear Hobie from the other room, amidst slathering on a moisturizer onto your face.

"Hold on! I'm doing skincare!" You exclaim, hoping he heard you.

"C'mon already!" Hobie yells, and you fight every urge to roll your eyes as you rub in the last bit of your face lotion.

"Okay, okay!"

Hobie smirks when you dip into his bedroom, reaching out his hands to beckon you closer. The fluffy lounge set you're in makes him want to handle you more, his fingers subconsciously drawing in towards you.

You stick out like a sore thumb against the different shades of black in his room, studded belts and punk magazines scattered on the ground. Lazily, he's seated on the edge of his bed, his worn-out guitar sprawled across his charcoal-black sheets.

Those silver-ringed hands slip onto the curves of your waist, snaking their way up your back to tug you closer to him. You almost shiver at the feeling of so much metal. Cockily, he stares at your face, cheekily dragging you so that his face his a hair close to your chest.

"What is it, Hobie?" You ask, smoothing your fingers through his kinky hair. Hobie likes it when you trace your thumb over all of his piercings.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Hobie pulls out an eyeliner pen, flipping it smoothly through his fingers. Hobie chuckles a little, squeezing at the fat of your sides. There's a glint in his eye; excitement.

"Y'always talk about puttin' makeup on me, so I'm givin' you a try."

Hobie's smirk widens when he sees you light up in excitement, allowing you to slip the eyeliner pen from his fingers.

"Right now?" You ask, and Hobie squeezes you. He nods, shoving his face right up at you to emphasize.

"Do an edgy look for me, yeah? Don't be afraid t'smudge it a li'l."

So, while Hobie sits at the edge of his bed, he indulgently allows himself to wrap his arms around you, tilting his head upwards so you can paint on the makeup properly. You're parked right in the gap between his legs, closing in the little distance you have with Hobie to perfect the look.

While you stand there, bracing Hobie's face with one hand, he just takes it upon himself to stare at your concentrated expression. He hates to admit but he loves the close proximity.

"Hobie, you gotta close your eyes for me to do it."

The boy shuts his eyes closed, flinching just the tiniest bit when the tip of the pen first meets his skin. You build up a fine line at the outer corner of his eyelid, making it an effort to upturn the wing just the slightest bit.

For the last part, you draw a somewhat messy line underneath his lower lash line, smearing black onto only the outer side. Taking your finger, you smudge the black while its still wet, blurring out the line until whats left under his eye looks like black shadow.

Hobie resists every urge to open his eyes, every nerve screaming at him to keep them shut. For now, he makes due with what he can, squishing a little too close to your butt, or running his thumbs over where your rib cage is.

"I finished the first eye, wanna see?" You ask.

He opens his eyes back up, relishing the sigh of you until he has to close them again. You step away elsewhere to search for a good-sized mirror, and Hobie reluctantly lets go.

You come back with a hand mirror, and Hobie feels his eye itch just a little, probably from the eyeliner. You hand him the mirror, and it makes you a little nervous. At the end of the day, you just want him to like it.

You watch as Hobie examines the first eye, tilting his face from side to side with a smile forming on his mouth.

"Wow, y'did a nice job. I like the smudging right 'ere." Hobie explains, pointing his finger up to his under eye.

You smile, taking the mirror from his hand so you could continue the other eye.

"Y'know... I think I might ask'ya to do this more often." Hobie says, mindlessly tapping his fingers against your back. The way you handle his face almost makes him melt.

"You're good at makeup."

You chuckle a little, swiping the pen away to press a gentle kiss to Hobie's forehead. The way he smiles is so cute, how you can feel his cheeks warm under your fingertips.

"If you wanted to be with me, you could'a just asked, Hobie." You giggle, gently poking the corner of his other eyelid with the pen.

"I'm serious!" Hobie laughs, his eyes still closed. "I look like Cooper, y'know who Cooper is?"

"The guy that gave you a spare guitar string?" You ask.

"Yeah, he's a good man, had this really wicked eyeliner on."

With a final swoop of your wrist you finish his other eye, your vision ping-ponging between the two wings to make sure they're symmetrical.

"Done!" And you hand Hobie the mirror again, intently watching his expressions. Again, he tilts his head from side to side, an impressed smile on his face. It looks really good on him, perfect for one of his shows.

"Wow, sweets, this is really sick. Bet I'd give Cooper a run for his money, yeah?" Hobie says, standing up from his bed. You giggle into his chest when he pulls you in, repaying you for the earlier kiss with one on the crown of your head.

"You think so?" You ask, and Hobie nods.

"Get dressed and I can take us to The Crown, bet Cooper's there havin' a drink or two." He cockily states, making you playfully roll your eyes. You're expecting him to show up Cooper, pridefully pointing to his eyes to say, "Yeah, my girl did that."

"I'd like that." You say, untangling yourself from Hobie to search for something on the floor to wear. You leave some of your clothes in his room anyway. He lets go of you, watching you skim through his wardrobe.

"How 'bout that l'il dress, the short one you always like? We can match." Hobie suggests, placing his hands underneath his head and leaning back into his bed.

"It's all the way over at my flat." You reply, and Hobie springs back up, already pulling his spider mask out of his worn-out vest pocket.

"I can go get it, if you want."

"I think you want it more than I do, Hobie." You shrug, Hobie already a third of his way out the window.

"Be back in a sec!"

#hobie brown #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #reader insert #xreader #x reader #fluff #romance #hate the am #hate the pm #hate labels #seratopia writes ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

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wroteclassicaly · 10 months

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No one really prepared you for it. They’d told you, sure, but you were always scared, always afraid you’d do something wrong to hurt him, that it would be painful for you, that he wouldn’t be attracted to you after it was over, that things would smell that shouldn’t. Should you do this, should you do that? A plethora of reasons came with why you had remained a virgin until you were in your 20’s.

And then you had sex with Eddie Munson…

He admires your stamina, your newly accumulated energy. How you went from this shy girl with tears in her eyes the first time he pressed into your cunt and nearly blew his load then and there, to the girl that insisted on having her mouth, hand, or pussy around his cock a majority of the time. You weren’t scared any longer, but hungry, fucking starved for it after you had a taste. Sex is amazing, and Eddie Munson is your dedicated god to worship.

That smart ass mouth, those talented fingers. If you weren’t touching yourself thinking about them, you were begging him, teasing him for them. It didn’t matter where you were, either. Eddie had through his magazines and interest within their centerfold contents made him the freak, but you were into anything. Even camping with your friends didn’t stop you.

As soon as the tent was up, the rain shrouded everyone’s activities for the better part of the evening, you were shoving Eddie into the wind-whipped material and closing it with a hasty ease, not even bothering with its unclosed flaps. You had shoved his shirt up, pulled on his chain, helped him assist in getting his pants below his ass, and your panties were pulled to the side as you rode him with focussed vigor.

“Love this, Eds. You always feel so good.”

You babble when you’re gone. Eddie is arching, trying not to be your little puppet, but with your warm and wet pussy bouncing on him, your cream pouring out around your opening and soaking his bush — he whines. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re such a little sex fiend now.”

“Oh?” You roll your hips into a more agonizingly slow set of movements. It’s enough for Eddie to hear the summer storm, the culprit of this ruined camp day (fuck, this is a better end result), and the smell of the fragrant scent of those white flowers on the tall trees and their overhanging branches, seeping into the tent’s expanse.

You lean down and he eagerly accepts a kiss from your swollen mouth, cupping your cheek to take another. Your nose nudges his own as you finish your sentence. “Since I’m such a fiend, guess who isn’t getting to cum?”

You really fucking love sex now. Especially with Eddie Munson.

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chuuyrr · 3 months

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✮⋆˙ WRONG PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME — DAZAI OSAMUִ ࣪𖤐

✮⋆˙ CW(s): f! reader, mutual pining, academic rivals, college love, fluff sprinkled with angst

✮⋆˙ SYNOPSIS: in which you get caught in a twist of fate and unwittingly become drawn to the new transfer student

✮⋆˙ NOW PLAYING: "slut!" and "say don't go" by taylor swift !

as you walk into college, the familiar routine of classes played out in your mind. wake up early, get dressed in uniform, and head to class. however, little did you know, today would be anything but ordinary.

you greet a couple of close friends and other peers in the classroom before you settle into your seat and put down your school bag, ready to start the same old day when the professor announced a new transfer student.

"before we start today's lecture, i was asked to inform the class that you will be having a new classmate. class, this is mister dazai osamu."

his entrance was as enigmatic as his name, capturing the attention of everyone in the room.

dazai osamu was an enigmatic figure with a captivating presence. his dark brown hair fell effortlessly, framing a face that seemed to hold a myriad of untold stories. his sharp, observant eyes carried a hint of mystery, leaving others curious about the thoughts hidden behind them.

"it's nice to meet you all," he greets everyone, a wave of intrigue swept through the class. you couldn't help but wonder what stories hid behind those piercing brown sugar eyes of his.

as the professor scanned the room for an empty seat for dazai osamu, your eyes unexpectedly met. time seemed to pause for a moment, and then, with a faint smile, your professor declares, "mr. osamu, you can take the seat next to [name]."

a ripple of surprise swept through the room, including yourself. you couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and anticipation as dazai gracefully made his way to the vacant seat besides you.

the proximity seemed almost serendipitous, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter would be more than just a chance seating arrangement.

as he settles into the chair, dazai turns to you with that mysterious smile, and for a moment, your eyes locked in a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected connection that fate had orchestrated.

as the professor began the lecture, fazai leaned in subtly and spoke with a soft, yet distinct, voice, "quite the interesting twist of fate, don't you think?" his words carried a hint of amusement, as if he had anticipated the peculiar course of events. how strange.

surprised but intrigued, you say, "yeah, it seems that way. is fate a favorite topic of yours?"

dazai chuckles softly, "oh, i have a variety of favorites, but fate has a way of weaving the most captivating narratives, don't you agree?"

the lecture continued on, and dazai seamlessly blended insightful comments with a touch of humor, creating a dynamic dialogue that made the class more engaging than ever.

throughout the lecture, dazai's unconventional insights and witty remarks kept everyone on the edge of their seats. the class that started as mundane transformed into a captivating experience.

it's like dazai's presence added an unexpected twist to the ordinary routine, turning a typical morning into an adventure and anticipation.

after the lecture, dazai continued to follow the unpredictable rhythm he had set. as you head towards the cafeteria for a break, you felt a presence beside you. he was walking casually, matching his pace with yours

"so, [name], any particular reason you're heading this way? or is it purely just the magnetic pull of cafeteria food?" he teases, his eyes dancing with playful curiosity.

"shouldn't i be asking you that, mister osamu?" you say back in the same joking manner, mimicking the way your professor addressed him earlier.

dazai's eyes widen for a moment, it was as if he had never been addressed by his first name before but he liked it, the sound of his very name, osamu, rolling off your tongue.

"osamu's fine! you make it sound like i'm one of the professors here," he complains with a childish whine and pout, making you giggle.

his company was unexpectedly pleasant, and you soon found yourselves sharing stories and laughter during breaks. dazai's anecdotes were laced with a peculiar blend of humor and melancholy, leaving you both amused and contemplative.

as days passed, dazai's presence became a constant in you college routine. he would join you during breaks, effortlessly turning mundane moments into memorable experiences.

your conversations ranged from the profound to the absurd, each interaction leaving you with a sense of wonder about the person who had entered your life so unexpectedly.

and your connection with him deepened as you and dazai spent more time together. the bond you shared extended beyond casual conversations, transcending into a camaraderie that enriched both your lives. however, the friendly banter and shared laughter took an unexpected turn as your academic interests collided.

it started innocently enough—a friendly debate over a class assignment, a challenge to outperform each other on a quiz.

your academic rivalry took with each other on new dimensions as assignments and exams continued to challenge you two. each classroom discussion transformed into a subtle contest of wits, with you and dazai vying for the professor's attention and striving to outshine each other.

as the semester progressed, your academic rivalry intensified, fueled by a mutual desire for excellence. despite the competition, there was an unspoken understanding that your friendship remained unscathed.

in the library, your tables were side by side, each silently pushing the other to achieve more. the rivalry, however, was tempered by moments of shared study sessions. you became each other's sounding boards, helping one another navigate the complexities of assignments and exams.

in the quiet hush of the library, you and dazai couldn't resist the urge to compare our recent test scores, and silently, you exchanged papers, your eyes scanning the numbers with mock seriousness.

a small triumphant grin crept across dazai's face, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his impressive result.

"i scored 15 out of 15 on our quiz today," dazai chuckles with a smug look dancing on his face as he folds his arms across his chest.

"whatever, 'samu," you scoff at him, rolling your eyes with a huff of breath from your lips, "at least i scored higher in the exam last shifting."

"excuse me, we're in the present shifting!" dazai let out a dramatic gasp, pretending to take offense as he places a hand to his chest.

"yeah? well exams are the bigger deal, not those damn quizzes."

"oh, i see how it is miss [surname]. quizzes only matter when you score higher than me. tsk."

your whispers grew unintentionally louder as the excitement of your competition escalated, and suddenly, a stern "shhh!" cut through the air, courtesy of the librarian, who shot you and dazai an exasperated look.

you and dazai briefly exchanged guilty glances, suppressing your laughter.

unable to contain yourselves, you stifled giggles behind your hands, shoulders shaking with silent mirth. the library's stern atmosphere clashed with your subdued laughter, creating a moment of shared amusement that only deepened the camaraderie between you two.

as you and dazai returned to your studies, there lingered a shared understanding that even in the realm of academics, laughter and friendship could find your place amidst the quiet seriousness of the library.

"i'll beat you next time, that's for sure," you narrow your eyes at him, purposely nudging his shoulder to interrupt him.

"i'd like to see you try, belladonna," dazai bites back, nudging your shoulder back.

the librarian takes notice of this and scolds you both once again in a stern yet hushed tone, "hush, you two! this is a library!"

"ma'am, he started it," you exclaim, throwing dazai under the bus as you motion over him with your thumb.

"no, she started it!" dazai whines and tries to argue about it, but the two of us only received another hushed scolding from the librarian.

she states, folding her arms, "i don't care which one of you started it. either you two to be quiet, or both of you will have to study somewhere else."

you and dazai gulp in unison, "sorry, ma'am."

as your friendship evolved, you couldn't help but be intrigued by the mystery that surrounded dazai osamu. his intelligence was undeniable, yet there were moments when you sensed a deliberate evasion whenever his past as a transfer student was brought up.

one day, unable to contain your curiosity while you two were eating lunch together, you venture, "osamu, there's something about your background you're not sharing, isn't there?"

dazai blinks at you, pausing from chewing on the crab stick he was having, "hmm? whatever do you mean by that, belladonna?"

you blink back and tilt your head to the side, "well, you're more than just a brilliant mind; there's a mystery to you."

dazai, ever the master of diversion, flashed a fleeting smile and smoothly changed the subject, "ah, my dearest, mysteries are the spice of life, don't you think? let's just focus on the present moment instead. what do you think of the upcoming project our professor gave us?"

it was a skillful evasion that left you both frustrated and fascinated. the more you probed, the more elusive dazai became about his past. it added another layer of complexity to your friendship, leaving you torn between the desire to unravel his enigma and the respect for his privacy.

as the two of you delved into the upcoming project, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to dazai osamu than met the eye, and the journey to uncover the truth had only just begun.

and it did.

curiosity got the better of you like a cat as you made your way home, and spot him in a secluded area of the school, engaged in a conversation with men clad in black suits and dark shades. the scene was surreal, and you imagination raced with possibilities.

hiding behind a corner, you strained to catch snippets of their conversation. the atmosphere was tense, and dazai's usually carefree demeanor had transformed into one of calculated seriousness. the men in black seemed to be discussing something of significance, their words exchanged in low tones that heightened the air of secrecy.

caught between the intrigue and a sense of trepidation, you couldn't help but question the true nature of dazai's connections. the transfer student, who had brought laughter and mystery into your life, now appeared to have a hidden side, one entangled with individuals whose motives were shrouded in secrecy.

as you observed from a distance, a multitude of questions swirled in your mind, especially when some business of sort was brought up that would take place in midnight and that dazai was supposed take part in it.

"what the hell?" you murmur softly to yourself as you continue to eavesdrop on them.

you shake your head and decide to not overthink about it anymore, and leave for the best as soon as dazai and those men left.

however, on your way back home, the men in black suits approached you with a calculated precision, their dark shades concealing their expressions.

you heart quickened as they surrounded you, creating an atmosphere of quiet tension as one of them spoke with a measured tone, "who are you?"

caught off guard, you stammer, "i—i was just passing by. i didn't mean to..." you trail off.

the other interrupted, "we're aware you've been curious, but it's in your best interest to refrain from prying into matters that don't concern you, young lady."

"i'm terribly sorry. i won't tell anyone. i promise!" you sputter out, unable to look at them straight in the eye.

their stern warning left you uneasy, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you had stumbled upon a world beyond your comprehension.

fear gripped you as you overheard the men in black suits discussing you presence. their hushed voices debated whether to dispose of you for stumbling upon a secret you were never meant to uncover. you felt like an intruder in a world that was far more dangerous and complex than you had ever imagined.

suddenly, the men exchanged worried glances with one another as they talked in hushed tones, but you couldn't help but hear some parts of their conversation.

"you don’t understand, he won't take kindly to any interference with [name]." the first one says.

another responds in a gulp, "yeah, we've got orders to keep on an eye tsushima shuji, but he made it clear himself that no harm should come to her at all costs."

you blink in confusion, heart setting into a panic. who's tsushima shuji? what did he have to do with dazai, and more importantly, you?

it doesn't take long for them to realize that you heard some of their conversation, and immediately, you were left with another stern warning.

"you're better off not digging too deep into this. he is not someone you want to cross paths with. stay out of trouble, young lady."

they hurry away, leaving you with a whirlwind of confusion, and you couldn't shake the feeling that the enigma surrounding dazai osamu had just deepened, and the revelation of shuji tsushima's involvement only added more layers to the mystery.

as the days unfolded, dazai couldn't ignore the growing distance between you two. in class and during breaks, your usual lively presence had been replaced by a quiet reserve, leaving him puzzled.

during a moment of shared silence, he finally broached the subject, "you've been distant lately. is something on your mind?"

you hesitate, grappling with the decision to reveal what you had discovered beforehand. however, fear of the unknown and the potential consequences held you back.

"it's just.. some personal stuff. nothing to worry about," you say, offering a weak smile to conceal the turmoil within.

dazai's eyes reflected a mix of understanding and concern, but he didn't press further. the unspoken tension lingered, casting a shadow over your friendship with him.

"you're not telling me the whole truth. i can tell," he says quite sternly.

despite his insistence, you clung to you decision to keep the truth hidden, "osamu, really, it's not something i can talk about right now. just personal stuff," you insist, avoiding eye contact.

dazai didn't relent, his concern deepening. "i thought we were past hiding things from each other. whatever it is, i can handle it, and we'll face it together."

his unwavering support tugged at my resolve, but the fear of the unknown continues to hold you back, "i appreciate your concern, dazai, but this is something i need to figure out on my own."

dazai, though disappointed, nods understandingly, "alright, whatever it is though, i'm here. i'll still be here, or at least, i'll try to."

those words seemed to carry a subtle weight, as if alluding to an impending departure.

confusion and concern flood your thoughts. "what do you mean? are you going away?"

his brown sugar eyes held a mixture of emotions—resignation, sadness, and a touch of mystery, "life is unpredictable. sometimes, we find ourselves on paths we didn't foresee. but don't worry, i'll always try to be here for you, [name]."

as dazai spoke, a sense of foreboding settled within you. the unspoken undertones left you grappling with a growing uncertainty about your shared future.

days turned into a disconcerting stretch of absence. dazai, once a constant presence in classrooms and breaks, was now notably absent. at first, you brushed it off, thinking he might be caught up in something, as he often was.

however, as the days passed, the nagging feeling that something was amiss grew stronger.

during lectures, his usual seat remained empty, and the laughter that used to accompany your breaks was replaced by an unsettling silence. the realization slowly crept in—dazai's words about trying to be there for you, coupled with the subtle sadness, were more significant than you had initially understood.

in a moment of clarity, you remembered his cryptic statement, "i will still be here, or at least i'll try to," the subtle forewarning now echoed loudly, and the pieces fell into place—you had overlooked the shadows of departure that shrouded your last conversation with him, and left you with a mixture of regret and nostalgia for the moments you and dazai had shared.

finally, unable to ignore the void left by his absence, you reached out, attempting to call him, only to be met with a voicemail that echoed with uncertainty.

"yahoo! this is dazai osamu speaking. i'm busy right now, so just leave a message."

panic set in as the truth you had been avoiding crystallized, dazai, true to his mysterious nature, had embarked on a journey that had taken him away.

tears welled up in your eyes as you find yourself reminiscing the moments shared with dazai while nearing your apartment.

each memory, once vibrant, now echoed with a profound sense of absence. the laughter, the camaraderie, and the enigmatic conversations became fragments of a past that seemed both distant and painfully close.

regret weighed heavily on your very heart as you replayed the events leading to dazai's departure.

the choice to keep the truth hidden, the distance that had crept into your interactions with one another, and the unspoken farewell in his words—all coalesced into a chorus of what-ifs and should-haves.

if only you had said, "don't go," or if you had swallowed your pride and shared the burden of the mysteries that unfolded, then maybe..

things could have been different.

you find yourself crumpling the finished lecture quiz you took this morning from one of your subjects and you couldn't help let out a frustrated cry, hurling it to the ground only to stomp it with the sole of your shoes.

your tearful eyes stare right down against the smudged score you had gotten. as wet hot tears streamed down your face, the realization hit you with a painful clarity—you had loved dazai.

not just for his company or the shared laughter, but for the person he was. the enigmatic charm, the wit that danced in his eyes, and the profound connection you two had formed were now etched in your heart with an indelible ache.

amidst your tearful attempts to call for dazai through your phone, a voice that you had grown to know so well echoed in the air. startled, you looked up to see him standing right in front of you.

however, the relief that momentarily washed over you transformed into shock and concern.

dazai, not in his usual uniform, was adorned in a black suit and tie. the familiar bandages that usually adorned his arms now covered not only them but also one of his eyes. what caught you off guard even more was the sight of blood that stained his clothes, giving an ominous edge to his appearance.

"what happened to you?" was all you manage to stammer, your tearful eyes wide with a mix of worry and confusion.

his usually playful smile was replaced by a weariness that seemed to extend beyond physical exhaustion, "i got caught up in something messy," he replies cryptically, his voice carrying a weight that hinted at a story he wasn't ready to share.

dazai's chuckle echoes, sending a strange mix of relief and frustration through you as you stare at him with teary eyes and a mix of emotions, his surprise was evident.

"well, well, i didn't expect you to be this worried, pretty girl," he remarks, his one visible eye sparkling with a mix of amusement and genuine astonishment, a way of trying to lighten up the mood.

frustration and relief battled within you, and you couldn't help but retort, "you disappeared without a word! what the hell did you expect?!"

dazai's chuckle merely persisted, but this time there was a warmth to it, as if you concern had managed to pierce through his enigmatic facade, "i suppose i underestimated the mess i'd leave behind. i'm sorry."

you frustration poured out in a torrent of words as you rant at dazai, "sorry? osamu, you were gone for days! and those men in black suits you were with even warned me about this tsushima shuji, and to keep myself out of trouble! what the hell is going on?!"

dazai's eyes, once filled with amusement, now darkened. there was a softening in his gaze as the weight of your words reached him, and in that moment, the enigma that was dazai osamu unraveled, revealing a truth you had never anticipated.

"of course, you saw. i knew, and i'm really sorry for not telling you sooner, my dear," he admitted, a heaviness in his voice. "but now you know. dazai osamu is just a persona, a mask i wear. i am tsushima shuji of the port mafia."

speechless, you stare at dazai—no, tsushima shuji—the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. the enigma that had shrouded his identity, the men in black suits, and the warnings.

it all made sense now, and the revelation left you stunned, the weight of the truth settling in.

the person you thought you knew as dazai osamu, the transfer student who had brought both laughter and mystery into your life, was also tsushima shuji, an executive of the port mafia.

as your shock subsided, a strange mix of emotions flooded through you; betrayal, understanding, and a lingering sense of danger.

dazai witnessed the myriad of emotions swirling within you—the shock, betrayal, and confusion etched across your face. the weight of the truth cast a shadow on your relationship, and as he looked at you, guilt and a hint of shame flickered in his eyes.

"why didn't you say anything? did you just lead me on then?" the questions spilled out, a torrent of hurt and confusion that mirrored the storm within your soul.

dazai met your gaze, his eyes reflecting the ache of your questions, "no, no, it was never a game to me. i never wanted to put you in danger," he explained, his voice tinged with a raw honesty that cut through the layers of his carefully constructed persona of a port mafia executive.

"so, what now? you're going to leave now, aren't you?" you ask on edge yet tearfully, your voice breaking with the weight of betrayal heavy in your words, "so you only came to my school, to my fucking life, all just to hide your true identity."

his eyes reflect the pain of your shared truth, "i never intended for it to be this way. it was never just a facade, [name]. i genuinely enjoyed our time together but the danger i bring is real."

"then... then i don't care!" you suddenly cry out, surprising both yourself and dazai, "who gives a fuck if you're shuji, some executive of an underground organization, because for all i know, you're dazai osamu. you're my osamu, my idiot of a seatmate, my rival."

the defiance in your words seemed to catch him off guard, and you continued, your voice shaking but resolute, "you can't just waltz into my life, become a part of it, and then vanish without a trace. i won't let you go that easily."

dazai's eyes, once clouded with the weight of impending departure, softened with a mix of surprise and something akin to gratitude.

amidst the chaos, the mess, and the intricate web of his life, he saw something genuine and profound. you loved him, not for the manipulative and intelligent mind, and the black blood that runs in his veins that everyone sought, especially the port mafia, but for the person beyond the masks and dual identities.

in that moment, the weight of your shared connection took on a new meaning. you truly loved him for who he was—dazai osamu, the seatmate, the rival, the enigma, and despite the dangerous world he inhabited.

and in return, he loved you back, not for any ulterior motive or scheme, but for the authenticity of our connection.

dazai looked into your eyes, a depth of sincerity replacing the enigmatic gleam that often defined him, "i never expected to find this."

he confessed, his voice carrying a vulnerability you hadn't heard before, "but everything we've had, everything we've shared—it's real to me, [name]."

dazai continued, his gaze unwavering, "i did transfer to your school just to hide, but i wanted something real and in you, i found that. i didn't think you'd care nor did i plan to fall for you, but i did. it's a mess, but it's a mess that feels right."

dazai's heartfelt admission stirred another mix of emotions within you. tearfully, you ask, "you think so? all of this, it's not just some elaborate act?"

he nods, his eyes conveying a depth of sincerity at the moment, "i'm not good at expressing emotions, but what we have is real. despite the chaos, the mess, and my own shortcomings, i've found something genuine with you."

in a surge of emotions, you find yourself running up to dazai, flinging your arms around him despite his disheveled and bloodied state. the authenticity of the moment transcended the chaos that surrounded you.

dazai, surprised by the sudden embrace, couldn't help but find himself smiling. your arms tightened around him and he whispers into your ear with such sincerity, "i love you."

the weight of those three words, uttered amidst the mess of your intertwined lives, and amidst the chaos and the mess, dazai gently cups your face, his bloodied hands a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch.

he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss your lips, a promise sealed with the authenticity of your love.

breaking the kiss, he looked into your eyes, the sincerity and genuineness in his gaze unwavering, forehead against yours endearingly, and him tugging the bandages covering his right eye in one swift movement.

"i'm not going anywhere now. if anything, i'm your osamu, and that's who i want to be."

wrong place at the right time.

౨ৎ tagging the sweetest people — @aureatchi @ruanais @cheriiyaya @anqelically @salmonieea ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #dazai x fem reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bsd oneshot #pm dazai #bsd dazai #dazai fluff #dazai angst #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n

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awoogayanderes · 11 days

Text

it takes the comfort of one person

➪ pairing : post pm ! osamu dazai x reader

➪ sypnosis : the sins of the past don’t always determine someone’s soul

➪ other notes : i have so many ideas but i genuinely don’t know how to write them out, but here you guys go :3

“do you think i’m a bad person ?” dazai asks you, his eyes staring into yours.

“what’s this about ?” you respond, lighting a cigarette, hands trembling in the dark.

“just thinking,” he says, “well don’t,” you sigh at the young man in front of you.

you can tell this affected him by the awkward silence he returns, looking away from you.

you sigh, "the trauma you experienced is very real, and and what that man had you do isn’t okay...but that doesn’t make you an angel either,” you say, an attempt to comfort him.

dazai doesn’t say anything, his fingers grabbing your cigarette, holding it up to his lips.

“and that’s okay, if you can recognize your own actions, you are the furthest from a bad person you can get,” you continue with a soft tone.

when you turned to look at dazai, for the first time in all the years you’ve known him, you saw a light shine in his eyes.

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dazedazaii · 5 months

Note

yandere hcs.. write yandere hcs for pm dazai..

omg …

pmzai would know almost everything about you after two days of meeting … i feel as if he would sneak into angos computer or smth and find everything he can about you; your school, phone number, home address, hell, even your likes and dislikes !

he purposely bumps into you, making sure to brush off his subordinates and skip work to hang out with you, whether that being just walking around or grabbing something to eat

he holds you like porcelain, as if you’re going to break any second he’s not near, especially with the mafia around. he makes sure to warn you about that, despite being in the dirty organization himself

walked you home at one point and memorized the street. every turn, every house that he passed by, etc

made sure you wouldn’t suspect him of anything. he makes the excuse of saying ‘making sure you’re alright ! these mafia freaks are really scary ya’know.’

you two text very often, dazai responding back in less than five minutes every time. he gets a little disappointed when you don’t do the same, but it’s whatever, he can see you from your apartment windows every night, so it doesn’t matter ~

at one point, you complained how you felt watched, eyes constantly on you and always figuring out where you were, and that was when dazai offered to stay the night with you. just to make sure you’re safe, of course ! nothing more !

after that, coming over to your house and watching you sleep was an almost everyday thing. it did creep you out in a way, you didn’t know what he could be doing in your house while you were asleep, but it shouldn’t be anything bad …

right ?

#bungo stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs #bsd #osamu dazai #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd pm dazai #bsd yandere #yandere bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd headcanons #혜인 🖋️#i’ve been so drained out lately … sorry for the lack of posts #pm dazai x reader

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luvfy0dor · 7 months

Note

Hi there! First of all I wanna say that I like your writing very much and that you're doing a good job! Thanks you for your hard work!

My requets/scenario is something about the reader (GN or fem.) who is sick/ feverish and due to that dehydrated and refused to take her meds. So the BSD boys (already fed up with your whining about feeling sick and annoyed and they just want to help you feel better blahblahblah...) take the pills and water into their owb mouth and kisstge reader to maje them take their pills. And maybe romantic feelings are already in the air yet no one had the balls to say something yet? And afterwards saying something like "Swallow" or "Come on, be good" to make th reader swallow?

If possible with Chuuya, PM Dazai ( i don't think one can piss ADA Dazai off SO much he'd act like this XD) and with someone else you could think of or like to write for.

Thank youuuu!

"C'mon, be good..." BSD x GN!Reader

╰┈➤ PM!Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor ༉‧₊˚✧

Description; PM/Beast!Dazai, Chuuya, and Fyodor with sick reader who just absolutely refuses to take meds.

Warnings; Maybe ooc in Dazais part? I've only read vol.1 of beast : (, cursing

A/N; I started writing this yesterday morning and I just got sick today (update it was just allergies it went away after a couple hours) what a coincidence!? Also tyssm for the compliment!! Ahh it means the world to me when y'all like my stuff!! ♡

Chuuya Nakahara ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chuuya is a busy man, and when you refuse to take your pills, you're only wasting the time that he sets aside for you by being difficult. He's gonna take care of you, and you're gonna like it too. (Who wouldn't?)

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"C'mon, I'm not gonna sit here and listen to your whining. It's just a pill, put it in your mouth and swallow it!" Chuuya exasperatedly says, flailing his arms as he talks. The bottle of pills makes a rattling sound in his hands as they move around. You just scoff, keeping your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Maybe, but it feels so weird going down my throat and I don't like it!" You say, your voice groggy and your nose sniffly from your cold. Your eyes were half lidded as you frowned at Chuuya. "Oh, and you like being sniffly 'nd having a headache?" He says with a roll of the eyes, putting his hands on his hips.

You thought for a moment. No, ofcourse you didn't like this feeling, but you also really didn't like taking pills. Chuuya had even tried offering the liquid medicine, but you didn't want that either because the kind he had for you tasted bad. You slumped back into the couch you were sitting on, huddling the blanket up to your chest.

You sigh before shaking your head. "No, I don't." Chuuya nods. "So take the pills, here." He hands you water and the pills themselves. You stared them down for a moment. They looked utterly massive in your palm and you could already feel the fish oil-y substance sliding down your throat. You gagged, bringing your hand up to your mouth. You groan.

"For God's sake, are ya gonna take it or not?" He mumbles. "You know I don't wanna sit here and waste time arguing with your stupid ass." He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. You smiled, knowing he really didn't mean it. "Oh, or what? What if I don't take it?" Chuuya props his head up on his fist while glaring at you.

"Or else I'm gonna shove it down your throat and make you swallow it." He sighs, hearing you snicker a little. "Great wording, Chuuya. Well then, hurry up, I'm waiting." You raise your eyebrows playfully. He rubs his face with his hands exasperatedly. "You know I'm not being serious." He murmurs.

"Aw, why not?" You tilt your head teasingly. "Why do you want me to?" You averted your eyes, not having an answer. You shrugged.

"Dunno, it's just...a very you thing to do, so I'm just wondering what discouraged you." He sits up.

"Well, because you're my..." He thinks for a moment. "Really close friend, and I care about you 'nd stuff..." He says, very faintly blushing while averting his eyes. Had you not been around Chuuya so much, it would have gone completely unnoticed, but unfortunately for him, you had seen. And boy, were you gonna let him know.

"Aww, so you DO care! And here I thought you were just....angry." You tease. He scoffs. "C'mon, you're the very first to know that my temper isn't my only personality trait." He gets up from his seat, grabbing the pill and holding it up to your lips with one hand, water in the other. "Take it. Now." He says, looking into your eyes as he's bent down to your level while you lean back into the couch cushions.

"Chuuya, I told you I don't want to." He pushes the pill against your lips some more. "You clearly do, all day you've bitched and moaned about your headache, your temperature, your runny nose, and your sore throat. I'm done hearin' about it!" He glares at you. "C'mon and just take it, it'll be over before you know it."

You shake your head and turn it away from Chuuya, bringing the blanket up to guard your lips. He sighs, so fed up. You watch Chuuya take the pill into his own mouth, filling it with water before he roughly grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours. You're shocked, both by Chuuyas bold action, but also by the feeling of the pill in your mouth, slowly snaking down your throat as he pulls away.

"Ya swallowed it, right?" His face is a little softer now, but still seeming a little agitated. You nod. "Open up 'nd show me." You hesitate for a minute before opening your mouth. He inspects for a second before nodding. "Alright...Jesus, that was so hard for no reason." He runs his fingers through his hair, fanning himself with his hat. "It's so hot in here too...s'not just me, right? Why're you being so quiet?" He says, looking over at you as he pants a bit, his heart beating loudly in his chest. You just stare at him, a bit awestruck.

"Chuuya." Your fingers go up to softly brush over your lips. "You..just kissed me. What do you mean 'why're you so quiet'?" You say with a soft laugh, mocking his voice at the end of your sentence. His eyes widen, as if he were completely unaware of his actions. Instead of blushing or trying to excuse himself, all he did was shrug. "Well, I mean I know you're in love with me, it's real easy to see." He says, a grin creeping onto his face, making you blush.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.." you laugh. Chuuya seemed pensive for a second, examining you while standing on the other side of the small room.

PM/Beast!Dazai Osamu ੈ✩‧₊˚

PM!Dazai is absolutely going to get this pill into your system, even if he has to shove it up your ass. Brotha is determined, and he's not gonna give up, so kissing you to get it down your throat was absolutely not off the table. As a matter of fact, it was probably one of his first choices...

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You hoist yourself up onto Dazais desk, shifting around and making yourself comfortable. The soft glow of the lamp illuminating the room, allowing you to observe smaller details, such as the marbled pattern in the floor tiles. After a few seconds, you hear the door open, the sound echoing in the relatively open space.

The fabric of your best friends black coat swayed behind him while he walked. You watched him approach the desk, a faint smile on his face. "Here, I brought you meds and water." He says, setting the pill bottles down on the hard wood surface. He notices the grimace on your face as you pick up the bottle and observe it. "Don't worry, they're the correct ones. I'm not trying to kill you." He says with a playful eyeroll.

You shake your head. "No, you're right, they're correct I just...ew, they're so...big." Dazai watches your facial expressions change intently as you study the pills. He sighs softly. "You'll live, these are prescribed to help people, not kill them. They'll go right down your throat, I promise." He says, sitting in one of his chairs, crossing one leg over the other.

"Well yeah but..." You say, sniffling. "There's nothing smaller...?" Dazai shakes his head. "Nope, that's all we got, so either take it or don't." He shrugs a little. You just give him a small glare. "If you chose not to take them, I don't wanna hear a single complaint from that big mouth you've got." Your friend says, twirling his finger a little as he passive aggressively points at you.

You just sigh and sip on the water her brought you. "Hey, that's supposed to be for taking that medicine." He says, his furrowed eyebrows really displaying his expression of annoyance. You continue sipping on the water until it's gone and completely empty. You can almost see steam coming out of his ears after that. He quickly gets up, walking over to the desk, and snatching the glass from the surface, angrily marching out.

You knew he'd be back, he has never angrily marched away from you for long. You just assumed he did it for dramatic effect at this point. A couple moments later, the doors swing open and Dazai walks in, his pace a little less aggressive but certainly faster. After closing the door, he walks up to you, shaking the pills out of the bottle until one was in his hands. He put the pill on his tongue before filling his mouth with water and roughly grabbing the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss.

You were caught FAR off guard. You had an inkling of a feeling that your feelings for your best friend were requited and not one sided as you previously thought, but now you were reassured. You leaned into the kiss, not even caring about the pill that was currently in your mouth. Dazai tilts your head back right before pulling away. "Swallow, got it?" He says firmly, his hand still placed on the back of your head. You nod right before swallowing the pill, suppressing a cough afterwards.

You deeply inhaled and exhaled seemingly desperately, almost gasping for air, considering your relatively sniffly nose. Once you caught your breath, the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls as you speak. "Good going, dumbass, now you're gonna get sick too..." You sniffle some more while blushing at the memory of Dazais action.

He just laughs for a moment, then shrugs. "Well, if I get sick I won't be a brat to you and refuse to take my pills, especially if you so kindly go out of your way to get them for me." You just scoff and roll your eyes. "Oh yeah, so far out of your way, fifty feet down the hallway is an utter journey, I'm sure." You reply back snarkily.

"Oh, it was." He says exaggeratedly. You just laugh a bit under your breath, examining the pill bottle again. "They better be miracle pills and cure you immediately after the struggle I put up to get them down your throat." He says, staring at you. "Well at least I know you care 'bout my safety." You give him a small smile, to which he reciprocates.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ੈ✩‧₊˚

Fyodor has so kindly offered to take care of you in your vulnerable moment of need, and he hoped you would be appreciative of that, but your unwillingness to take your pills does not really reassure his hope.

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Sniffles. Sniffles were all the filled the room the two of you sat in, you curled up in a blanket and Fyodor reading a book on a couch on the other side of the room. Most of the time, he had kept his distance from you because of your insistence on keeping him in good health. "Ugh, this is so annoying." You whined, rolling around in your blanket, your body language displaying just how fed up with this whole cold you were. You can hear a sigh from Fyodor, as will as the sound of his book closing.

"Well, y/n, I offered you pills and you have continuously refused to take them." He says, his face blank as he crosses his legs and rests his book on his lap. You just let out a soft whine. "Well yeah but....those pills are nasty, they're so big, I'll throw up before I can even try to feel better." You mumble, exasperatedly rubbing your face, pulling a bit at your skin. You can feel Fyodor staring at you from afar.

"Then I suppose you're not going to feel better as quickly as you potentially could." He replies, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and re-opening his book. "Well yeah, but like...well, in my defense you weren't very forceful about it." You say, trying to justify your actions. His attention turns back to you again.

"Oh, did you want me to be? I figured I wouldn't be forceful or push it onto you because you're very close to me." He says, almost as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your heart couldn't help but flutter the tiniest but, a small smile coming over your face. "Well, I'm definitely gonna be more likely to take them if you're a little more insistent." You mumble a bit, to which he sighs, setting his book down once more and grabbing the pill bottle. He makes his way back over to you, holding the pill up to your mouth.

"Go on." He says, waiting for you to take the pill into your mouth, but you just grimace at it. "Okay, maybe I'm just not gonna take them.." you say, gagging at the idea. Fyodor just shakes his head. "You have to. As much as I don't want to force you to, I want you to feel better and stop complaining." He says softly. His face matches his words, not a single sharp edge or expression to either. He was gentle. You groan at the pill some more, earning yet another sigh from him.

"Okay." He shakes his head before placing the pill on his tongue and taking some of the water into his mouth. "Hey, what're you-" you're cut off by Fyodor softly pulling you into a kiss, passing the water and pill from his mouth to yours. After it's completely in your mouth, he pulls away but tilts your head back by guiding your chin upwards with his pointer finger. "Swallow." He mutters, watching your flustered facial expressions. You swallow the pill and water with a 'gulp' and stutter over your words a bit before you can get them completely out.

"That was really your method of choice?" You mutter, hiding your blushing face with your the back of your hand. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that not what you wanted me to do?" You rapidly shake your head. "No, no! I just...I don't even know, thank you...for helping me take my pills..and kissing me, 'nd stuff..." You mumble, a bit embarrassed but so giddy at the same time. He just smiles a bit and rubs your back gently.

"You're welcome. You're an open book for the most part, y/n. Very easy to read." He says softly, before reclaiming his seat on the couch. "Now, I don't want to raise my chances of myself getting sick, or else I would sit with you." He says, grabbing his book again. "Yeah, alright...fair." you mutter, still a little excited over the whole thing. You giggle a bit to yourself and he hears it, he can't help but smile ever so slightly in amusement.

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chocsra · 5 months

Text

"What is A House? Who is Your Home?"

15! Dazai x gn! reader

ask: @wifedazai hellooo 🫶🫶 i’m literally soo in love with your writing, i love it so much. i was wondering when you get the chance if you could make a 15!dazai x fem/gn reader? like the reader is a caring and sweet person to dazai that he lets himself be vulnerable around her, like for example one day he goes straight to her apartment after a tiring mission and just lets them take care of him, bathing him, changing his bandages, etc🫶

content: fluff, oneshot, not proofread, taking care of dazais bandages, mentions of odasaku, mentions of suicide & getting hurt, soft! dazai

a/n: ur request was saur cute pookie, ENJOY AND SORRY FOR THE LACK OF DAZAI CONTENTJWJSJS. ps, the port mafia was his house, the agency is his home

"You're home,"

A warm chill soothed in the air: the jingle of keys, the rustling of leaves from open windows, the scent of sweat and blood. Home, they say, is not a house, nor just someplace you sleep in; that's why a house cannot always be a home, or a home cannot always be just a house.

"I always come home."

Dazai Osamu - is an er, friend of yours? In the rise and fall of Yokohama's chest, laid bustling streets where crime inhabits each corner, each alleyway. And well, your 'friend' did contribute to that factor, but you digress.

"Home, as in, my house?" you ask casually, a smile tugging on your lips. Dazai chuckles, taking off his workshoes on at the doorstep before gently pinching on your cheek. "Anything's better than that shipping container." he feigns a sigh, watching as your face contorts in confusion as blood from his thumb smudges on your cheek. "Ah," the teenage boy lets out a breathy giggle, "sorry." Dazai wipes the blood again with his thumb, smearing the imprint across your skin.

"So, what happened to you, Mr. Mafia?" you snicker, Dazai's black overcoat rested somewhere on the clean flooring of your apartment. Currently changing his bandages, washing some blood off here and there. "Well, I bet you can guess." he exhales, bringing a bandaged hand to ruffle the brown locks in between his hair.

"I wonder why you get hurt so much," you grumble softly, gently unbandaging the guaze secured around his neck, arms, well, his everything. "I wonder that too, huh?" Dazai swiftly repeats, "Why are you repeating everything i say?" you cock a brow, wiping some blood from his shoulder suspiciously. "No I'm not," the brunette looks at you mock-offendedly, "Yeah you are."

There are times where being friends with a mafioso was well, challenging. Dazai of all people, is one of, if not the most challenging criminal you've encountered. And if he actually lived a normal life, he'd be sweating his ass off studying; if he needs to.

You'd think about his whereabouts: what does Dazai Osamu do in a day? who does Dazai Osamu do in a day? And why is Dazai Osamu not dead?

Ps: that's because he wants to die. You know because he told you a million times before.

You know Dazai Osamu does one thing though, he teaches. Past tense actually, he taught.

You figured out the difference between a house and a home.

Home is a tall brunette, appearing at your doorstep with shitty takeout.

Home is changing a mystery boy's suit and tie.

Home is not being able to sleep, because reality is finally better than your dreams.

Home is kissing shards of broken glass - you're bound to get hurt, but at least you were The Victim, and not The Cause.

"Well, I don't like to see you hurt, 'kay?" you smile softly, gently washing his shoulders and arms, feeling the prominent bones under his flesh. "And what is that supposed to imply, exactly?" he smiles cheekily, turning to you as you chuckle endearingly, "It means, don't-" you tap his forehead playfully, "get," tapping again, watching as the brunette laughs under his breath, "hurt, stupid." Dazai softly takes your hand in his, looking intently at the soft flesh of yours compared to the calloused, beaten knuckles of his.

"You're right, my dear," you turn away half-flushed, half-scoffing at the sudden nickname, "I'll try." the boy smiles, rubbing your knuckles gently under the pad of his bruised fingers. You chuckle in return, watching as Dazai pauses.

"Under one condition," he mutters, his bare shoulders reflecting under the returning sun, "and what's that?"

"You meet a friend of mine, he taught me a lot of things." the brunette murmurs in a hushed tone, you see the glimmer in his eyes, eyes that look lifeless most of the time, devoid of mercy, compassion. But sometimes, Dazai loses the scare, and blooms like he's seen an angel above when he looks at you. "What's their name? Are they in the mafia too?" you question, your lips tugging into a hearty smile, "Well I call him Odasaku, but his name is Oda - and he is in the mafia, but really, I think he should be an author."

"Sounds pretty drastic," you reply, Dazai hums peacefully, "but achievable." you both say in unison. "So what do you say?" the boy asks, "Will you meet him with me?" you wrap new bandages around his shoulders gently, "maybe," you murmur; the teenager rolls his eyes sassily, "c'mon, he'll like that someone is taking care of me like this." humming a soft tune, "alright, alright."

"Y'know, you mentioned he taught you a lot of things," you brought up, reapplying gauze now to his arms." Dazai looks at your with loving eyes, "mhm," he hums. "Like what?"

"The difference between a house and a home."

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kentopedia · 8 months

Text

dating port mafia boss dazai

contents: f!reader, implied violence, mostly dazai spoiling you so much, dazai is very soft in this, one litte nsfw scene !!

note: this reeks of self indulgence :,) my current obsession is pmboss!dazai being so sweet & gentle to his s/o

it goes without saying that if you're in the port mafia when you start dating dazai, he’ll probably want you to take less work in the field.

bc his main goal is keeping you safe, and he constantly worries about you when you're going on dangerous missions !!

though, sometimes you miss being in all the action. so, dazai will send you on missions with chuuya or akutagawa from time to time

he still worries, but he has no doubt they can keep you safe!!

he hates being nervous about whether or not you’ll come back to him, but he never wants you to feel like you're a prisoner in your own home.

if you want to go with him, anywhere or anytime, to any meeting, you just have to ask!

bc he trusts you completely <3 and he also knows you can take care of yourself.

if you want to work in other parts of the mafia, whether that be in training, intelligence, or behind the scenes work, dazai doesn’t care

he pretends to be uncompromising on some issues, but you can convince him of anything with a pretty smile.

but, if you're not in the port mafia, he (unfortunately) will make sure you have a bodyguard with you almost everywhere.

you insist its not necessary, but he knows he's made a lot of enemies that would love to use him against you. :(

though dazai has his moments of insanity (lol), he doesn't want to drive you away from him.

if you say its too much, he'll figure out something else. another way to keep you safe.

eventually, you come live with him, so that takes care of that.

dazai spoils you senseless !!

if he's ever late for a mission, he always comes back with something for you.

sometimes its flowers, sometimes its something even more elaborate

loves loves loves giving you jewelry

but everything he buys is very thoughtful!

he doesn't buy you expensive gifts just to flaunt money

its more that there isn't a price tag on things to him. if he sees something he thinks you'll like, it'll be yours, no matter the cost <3

"i'm home!" you said cheerfully, dropping your bag off by the door as you shouted to dazai through the penthouse.

the sound echoed back, and dazai didn't respond.

with a yawn, you headed towards your bedroom, stretching your muscles as you walked. the weather had been miserable that week, and between the heat and the rain, you were feeling more tired than ever.

what you longed for was a nice hot shower and a night in dazai's arms.

"osamu?" you said again, but the apartment remained quiet. there was no one in your bedroom when you opened the door.

you sighed, disappointed that he wasn't home to lay with you as you took a nap. though, your attention was quickly diverted by the newest addition to your bed.

a soft brown teddy bear, the same color as dazai's eyes, held a card, and a dark velvet box, paired with a bouquet of fresh flowers on your nightstand.

the note was short, but it was enough, and you couldn't help but smile as you read it.

i have to go out of the city for tonight. i'll be back in the morning. sorry i can't be with you, my darling. here's a little apology gift. i love you. - osamu

as usual, the gift was anything but small.

you flipped open the delicate box to reveal a gold necklace, a deep ruby dangling from the chain in the shape of a heart.

for a moment, you did nothing more than stare at the glittering gem that was edged by smaller diamonds, and you swelled with more love than your chest could handle.

carefully, you set the box down, wondering what you ever did to deserve something so beautiful. as much as you wanted to wear it immediately, you'd wait until osamu was back so he could help you put it on.

instead, you placed the card and the necklace by the flowers, and climbed into bed with the stuffed animal. as you nestled deeper into the comforter, curling your arms around the bear, you realized dazai had sprayed it with his cologne before he left.

dazai isn't the best about telling you how he feels. he is so much better at showing it.

if it isn't obvious, he loves buying you gifts! he has so much money as the port mafia boss, and he has no idea what to do with it. why not spend it on you!!

if you see an outfit in the store window that you like, dazai will have it tailored to your precise measurements. (which he has memorized, of course).

he loves shopping for you.

when he buys you pretty dresses, lingerie, and so on, all the other women in the store are swooning over him.

he knows exactly what you like and don't.

even if he thinks you'd look so beautiful in something, he knows your sense of style.

dazai doesn't want you to ever feel obligated to wear something just bc he picked it out for you.

of course, dazai always gives you his card to go shopping

and to get your nails done! he's obsessed with how pretty your hands look after getting a fresh set <3

he's loves them whatever color/design you think looks best. but i'd be lying if i said he wasn't obsessed with red nails.

dazai really loves the way they looked wrapped around his-

you rested your head on dazai's shoulder, letting your hands gently splay across his knee, your fingertips moving in a listless, delicate pattern.

though a film played before you, it was forgotten quickly, dazai's breath catching as he exhaled a laugh. "what are you doing?" he asked, and you smiled innocently, drifting your hand further up his thigh.

"nothing."

he blinked at you with wide brown eyes and swallowed, his throat bobbing as you reached his hip. you wrapped a delicate finger around his zipper, pulling it down slowly.

"nothing, hm?" he countered.

you turned to face him, sweeter now, as you tugged at his waistband. though dazai feigned disinterest for a moment, you felt him twitch beneath the thin layer of clothing.

his focus drifted down to your much softer hand, perfectly manicured and smaller than his own. he seemed fascinated, for a moment, by the way your fingers were moving. "your nails look pretty, love."

"i know.” you grinned. dazai's hips shifted, and you lowered his waistband, pressing a line of kisses up his neck slowly, teasing him.

you freed his cock, aching and hard, from his pants, and wrapped your hand around him. dazai let out a small gasp, though he watched as you lazily stroked him, the action perfected from experience.

"you're so pretty, 'samu." you watched his face turn red as he tried hard not to fall apart under your touch.

it was reassuring, really, to know that the most powerful man in the city was wrapped around your finger.

"not as pretty as you, baby," he said, but the word came out strained, raspy as you tightened your fist, running your teeth across the taut vein in his neck.

you laughed and moved onto his lap, kicking the remote off the couch before straddling him. his eyes melted into hearts as he stared up at you, begging for a kiss.

"you’ve been so busy this week,” you frowned. “i wanna make you feel good."

dazai jerked into you, breathing stifled as you brush your thumb over the tip. "you always do." his smile was affectionate, but his touch was desperate, digging into your sides. he was already searching for some sort of release.

"so impatient," you said, but you indulged him with a kiss anyway, his hands fisting in your hair as your tongue met his.

he breathed into you mouth, hot and heavy. "fuck," dazai hissed, lifting your hips to slip off your pajama shorts. "it's hard not to be when you're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. i need to be inside you."

dazai loves loves loves taking you out to expensive restaurants <3

he's not a big fan of crowds, though, so he'll rent out the entire place instead, just to get a private room for the two of you.

and if you don't feel like going out, but you want a nice meal, he'll hire a chef for the evening. one that specializes in whatever type of food you want

dazai's not the best cook, but he’ll do often, just because it makes you happy

he gets so much better over time, though.

whatever you want, he'll make it for you! and if he can't, he'll definitely find someone who can.

but! back to dazai letting you use his account to buy anything.

when you go to any shop associated with the mafia, everything is on the house

bc if the boss is going to funnel money into their pockets, the least they could do is give his girl some gifts !!

"is this... going to be all for you today, miss?" the cashier said, looking at the stack of clothing skeptically. he rang up price tag after price tag, watching as the numbers grew exponentially on the screen.

you nodded, smiling politely as he read off the total, a number that no average person would be able to spend reasonably in one go.

but dazai said you could get whatever you wanted for your birthday, and you hadn't let yourself indulge in a shopping spree for a while. so you'd picked up anything that suited you nicely and decided not to worry.

"how will you be paying today?"

you handed over the card, and the cashier read the name, glancing up at you with skeptical eyes.

"dazai osamu?"

you smiled sweetly. "it's my boyfriend's card."

though, the name had caught the attention of an older salesman across the room, and he was to the cashier in two swift steps, knocking him on the back of the head.

"dumbass," the older man swiped the card from the cashier before he could swipe the payment. "don't you know who she is?"

it took the man three more times of reading dazai's name across the plastic for it to click.

"i'm so sorry," he said, wide eyes suddenly anxious. "i had no idea you were—"

"it's okay. don't worry." you smiled, shrugging. "i won't tell him."

you meant it as a joke, but that only seemed to make the younger cashier more nervous.

"we'll take care of everything for you." the elderly salesman said, holding out the card to return it. "it's on us."

"really?" you pinched your eyebrows together, concerned. the bill was steep. it seemed unfair to let them take such a hit to profits. "at least let me pay for some of it.”

"no, don't worry about it. the boss said it was your birthday, so whatever you want, its yours."

for a moment, you weren't sure what to say. though, realizing that this store was just one of the many in yokohama that partnerned with dazai, you finally succumbed to a smile, and accepted their kindness.

you took dazai's card back and slipped it into your purse. "thank you so much.” you said sincerely, turning to leave with a small wave as you gathered up the bags and bags of clothes. "it was nice to meet you. i'll come back soon!"

though they said nothing, they both stared back at you with wide eyes, as most people did when they found out you were the one that had captured dazai's heart.

when dazai finds out how much you love to read, he clears out an entire floor of the port mafia headquarters to make you a library

its done far too elaborately, with classical decorations, a very intricate chandelier, and a view that looks over the entire city

there are special editions, original copies of your favorite books, books in languages you can't even read and so on

he went a little overboard, but he was just so excited to show you :(

"osamu." you stare, blinking at the vast room, not really sure what to say other than his name.

"what?" he's pouting instantly, wondering if he made a mistake, and you didn't like to read as much as he thought. "do you not like it?"

you don't think your heart has ever felt so full before, and you manage a shaky smile, wondering how it didn't split your face in two. "this is too much. you did all this for me?"

and he seems surprised you would even ask such a silly question, because why wouldn't he give you something you've always wanted? "if it makes you feel better, i'll tell you i did it for myself."

you laugh, and then you're launching yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. you nearly cry, because even though he spoils you far too much, this is the most thoughtful gift you've ever received.

"thank you." you whisper, kissing him all over his face, and he smiles, his cheeks warm from your affection.

dazai leads you to a shelf after that, pointing out a few novels that have his name scribbled in the front cover, all with varying states of penmanship.

he's collected all his favorite books there for you, hopeful you'll read them first.

dazai places you next to him in every mafia meeting

if you're going to be his partner, you're also going to be his equal <3

and he knows that you can keep everyone in the mafia in line. he trusts you to be in charge when he's not there

bc everyone in the mafia likes you more than dazai anyway! (except maybe akutagawa)

and yes, dazai is the sweetest to you <3 but certainly not to everyone else

he disposes of people that bother you... far too quickly

the man at the store made you uncomfortable? he doesn't live in the city anymore. someone was too handsy? they'll lose a few fingers.

but if someone in the mafia says even one unkind word to you, you'll never see them again.

"sweetheart, what's wrong?"

you sniffed, wiping the tears from your eyes as his hands snuck around your waist. he pulled you closer towards him, sliding next to you on the bed.

"it's nothing." you swallowed, but your eyes were still glassy no matter how hard you tried to stop crying. "i shouldn't get so worked up about things people say."

"hey," he coaxed your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up. "if it's upsetting you, it's a big deal to me, my love."

you said nothing for a moment, but dazai remained patient, smiling softly at you as he stroked your cheek.

never able to resist the gentleness that he showered only you in, you sighed. "some people just said…” you trailed off, almost not wanting to tell him. it seemed embarrassing, in some way, to say something lewd about yourself, even if you were merely repeating the words.

“said what?”

you chewed the inside of your lip before sighing, knowing dazai wouldn’t let the issue rest until you told him.

“they just said that you only kept me around to fuck me.” you dropped your gaze to your hands for a moment, letting them rest limply in your lap. “that i was just some stupid bitch you’d leave behind soon.”

you watched the smile slowly fall from his lips, his eyes hardening with a fury that wasn't directed at you.

"you know that's not true." he held your hands tightly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "tell me that you know that."

you managed something of a smile. "i know. i really do know how much you love me. doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings.”

he nodded, somewhat satisfied as the cloudiness began to clear from your face. "who was it? if you don't know they're name, just describe them." his expression was icy, dangerous, even if his hands were soft.

"osamu, i told you it doesn't matter—" you frowned, looking away before he interrupted.

“it does fucking matter." his words came out sharp. "those men work for me, and i'm not going to let them treat you like that. they've got no business being here if they can't respect you."

at the end of the day, dazai's reputation remains very much intact. he will always be feared in the city, despite exposing himself as a man who's so so in love

but everyone in the mafia is secretly pleased to see him a little happier, even if its just around you.

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