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moedull · 8 days

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A/N: This is part of my AO3 series where my favourite characters represent different times (and ways) to say I love you

this was written waaay back in 2021? This is rewritten ofc, but, quite hastily in my opinion! It may not be the best, but, hey, it's cool

also.... dont be afraid to comment... help artists survive by showing ur love through comments or sharing their fics!!!!! >_o thanks!

AKA. Posted from my ao3 once again!

words: 1273

tags: NOT BETA READ, mild hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader, established relationship!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Enjoy: TSUKISHIMA KEI!

“Oh you’re still going on about that?”

“Yes.”

Tsukishima sighs, sitting behind you as you smash the letters on your keyboard. You hear the bed creak and suddenly, he’s sitting next to you. He gently grabs your hands and holds them tight.

“Hey.” He starts casually.

You look him in the eye with a huge frown, and furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

“Come here.”

‘Here’ is the soft bed you wish to lay on with no worries in the world. Of course, with your boyfriend, Tsukishima Kei.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“I’m busy right now…” You try pushing him away.

“You don’t look like you’re in the best condition.” He says matter of factly, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand.

“So what if I am? I have to finish my thesis.”

He looks at you, sighs, and rolls his eyes. “I know that but it doesn’t change the fact that I worry about you.”

“I can take care of myself.” You hushed. “But thank you.”

“Are you ever gonna let me help? Or just go along with everything because you have too much pride for your own good?”

“No.” You huff. You suppose it was a habit from when you first met– always reaching for the top, showing everyone who really deserves to be up there– and, you do. You try hard everyday, working and caring for so many different things.

You just seem to be out of luck as it always feels like your efforts are unnoticed. In such situations, perseverance is key– but that kind of mindset may quickly turn sour when they’re left to linger and turn into stubbornness.

You should probably hate Tsukishima Kei– strong-willed, cool and collected, and of course, smart. You would never have expected to hit it off with him, but he's one of those people who could easily get under your skin and get you to crack.

“Well, I know you can handle yourself, but don’t forget to eat.”

You roll your eyes (no malice is intended, of course). “You don’t need to baby me all the time.”

His eyebrow twitches, and he rolls his eyes in exasperation (no malice is intended here as well). “Whatever. But you need to sleep. Okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” You wave his concerns away, already turning around to resume typing.

Tsukishima huffs, gets up and moves over to your desk. He places his hands on either side of the laptop, leaning forward slightly as he studies the screen.

“It’s not good to stress yourself out like this.”

“I don’t stress out.” You argue.

“Right, cause you always make sure you’re not stressed out.”

“I am not stressed out.” You insist.

“Fine.” He relents. “But just remember I care about you. I can’t help it if you act like an idiot sometimes.”

The corners of your lips twitch up. “You’re cute.”

“Shut up.”

“And sweet.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Don’t you think I should use more than two adjectives when talking about someone I like?” You ask with a smile, tilting your head.

He grins smugly down at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe.”

You chuckle, but it stops right away as you turn back to your work. Tsukishima still hangs around, not entirely convinced of your claims of being fine. He is especially convinced when you simply stare at your blank page, trying to find the right words to make the right sentence to make the right point of the right argument and–

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” He asks, taking a seat next to you. He scrolls up with your mouse, trying to read the rest of your document.

You see the reflection of his face; His eyebrows knit together, lips pursed as the cursor moves underneath a few words. He lingers on a few sentences for unknown reasons that make your hands sweat and your heart beat faster. Flustered? Hardly, it’s the ache of anxiety. Your problems, right now, are far from school-related.

“Mm.” Tsukishima hums, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You have the idea, so that’s good.”

But,

“You’re not being straight to the point about it.” He scrolls back to whatever page you made some stupid mistake on.

When did mistakes matter? I mean, seriously, at which stage of your life, did you begin to wallow over your mistakes? You were only in 3rd grade, scraping your knee on a cement pavement from running and that was one of the worst things that happened to you.

Now, you read back on all of your essays and tests and feel your heart drop when you see that red ‘X’, the teacher encircling a specific part, or some harsh comments at the side. You want to blame the system, the adults, the economy or whatever God is up there– but, you can’t help it– You look in the mirror, thinking: Fuck. Was this all me?

Someone flicks your forehead, and you let out a wince, rubbing the spot.

“Hey.” Tsukishima says, tilting his head to look at your face. “You were zoning out.”

You glance back at him with an almost confused, somewhat dazed look. Here’s another big question: When did Tsukishima Kei matter? It’s incredible that you looked at someone for 304 days, talked, fell in love and somehow, it’s your life and his. You can’t put it into words right now; the questions that grow inside the empty pit of your stomach, because, right, you haven’t eaten yet, and you can’t tell if it really is a question, or if it’s screaming at you.

You feel like you’re going to vomit–Fuck, that anxiety was just building up inside of you.

“I..” You pause, swallowing a non-existent lump in your throat.

“I didn’t think..” You pause again, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t think you’d like me back.”

He sits straight up, and stares down at you, furrowing his eyebrows with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?”

You shake your head. “Look, I wasn’t expecting any response from you when I confessed.”

You pause, feeling your eyes burn slightly from the tears that were building up, “I was just.. someone. You were one of the smartest guys in school—still are—but, out of everyone....” you start to trail off.

“Out of everyone, why did you choose me?” You continue, forcing yourself to speak slowly, slightly tensing up at the evident sound of your voice breaking halfway.

He doesn’t respond. He slumps his shoulders, seemingly taken aback and bewildered.

“Why does someone like you pick me?” You laugh bitterly. Your heart aches even at the thought of it.

You watch him closely, as if looking for some sort of reaction or sign of how he feels. A flicker in his eyes, anything.

Tsukishima’s face remains blank for several moments before opening his mouth slowly to say, “Because I like you.”

It takes you a minute to process what he said and you blink owlishly. You’d been prepared to hear something like ‘You’re a dumbass’ or something along the lines.

”But why?” You manage to blurt out, unable to hide a frown.

There’s a long silence as you hold his gaze. You stare at each other, neither willing to break eye contact, not until he leans in and presses his lips against yours.

“Was that answer not enough?” He whispers into your ear, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.

You feel lightheaded, your entire body buzzing and your heartbeat drumming against your ribcage.

You can’t speak, so instead you shake your head.

There's silence as he begins to cradle you in his arms, resting his chin on your head.

“I love you.” He tells you again.

#tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #moedull

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moedull · 28 days

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Reblogs can also make a person's day! It's not your obligation to, but, if you really like someone's work, leaving them a nice comment (whether that be analysis, keysmash, etc) in the tags or as a post itself is hardly annoying, in fact, it is very welcome! It gives people the little push they need to create and SHARE more because you're making it known that, yes, i would like to see more of your fantastic work!

i am begging you all to stop treating this site like instagram if you dont want it to be content free by next year

#reblog reblog reblog

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moedull · 28 days

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HYPOTHETICALS

A/N: "you and dazai talk about the hypotheticals in love"

this was something that popped into my mind a few times and I always found that, if I wrote it with dazai, i usually arrived at a conclusion. He's like my internal therapist that I have control over, or, whatever

AKA. Posted from my ao3 once again!

words: 1540

tags: Mild Hurt/COMFORT!!!!!!, Established relationship, GENDER NEUTRAL READER YAYYYYY!!!!!!!

Enjoy!

“Dazai.”

The moment I speak, Dazai’s eyes snap open and his gaze settles upon me. He raises a brow, turning around to face me properly.

“Hm?”

“What if,” I begin, “I fell in love with someone else, in the middle of everything we have, right now?”

Dazai’s quiet. His expression is somewhat neutral, but it’s evident he’s not exactly thrilled at the thought.

“Who?” He tilts his head.

“It’s just a hypothetical. Just a ‘what if’.”

“A ‘what if’…?” Dazai’s brows furrow as he stares at me, the gears in his brain turning.

It’s a weird question, alongside the many implications that came with it. It’s not exactly the right nor wrong question to ask, but it’s not exactly something anyone would ask when they already have a good thing going. In fact, I don’t even know why I asked it– but there was this creeping urge inside me that compelled me to; a creeping urge called anxiety.

Dazai shuffles closer, his hands resting on my hips. I blink, my attention moves back to him as he begins to speak.

“Hypothetically speaking,” He starts off light-heartedly, “Let’s say, you met someone more deserving of you, than me. Do you think you could love someone else? As much as you love me?”

“I don’t think I could. It’s hard to imagine, but it could happen, right?” I purse my lips, shuffling closer to him.

“I think so.” He raises his eyebrows, a bit surprised. “It’s entirely possible that there’s an even more charming individual out there. Someone with an even more charming smile, personality. Maybe that’s someone you’d love more than me.”

It sounds right, but it hardly feels so. He brings his hands to my face, cupping it and tracing his fingers on my cheeks.

“A handsome man with an attractive voice, it makes you fall head over heels.” He hums, a small, unreadable smile on his lips. “Could someone like that come along and sweep you off your feet, taking your attention away from me? If that happened, then what?”

“Is that even possible?” I raise an eyebrow, scrunching up my face a little that incites a little laugh out of Dazai’s lips. “I’d say, leave me first. If I were to fall in love with someone else when I swore to you, by my confession, that I would give my entire heart to you ; Did I never really love you, or did I never love you enough?”

Dazai blinks, raising both his eyebrows and widening his eyes. He moves his arm down, rubbing my arm gently. “That’s… a good question.”

We lie in silence, just for a moment. Like him, I’m a little surprised by the sudden intensity of the conversation. I suppose, hypotheticals never really end up with simple answers– they’re hypotheticals, after all. Complex in itself, from start to finish.

Dazai decides to break the silence. “Let me give you another hypothetical: what if I were to encounter another individual who could bring me more happiness than you?--”

I’d be heartbroken.

“--Say, someone with greater intelligence? Someone who could make me laugh, even when I’m at my lowest? Do you think I could fall for that?”

“Yes.” I reply without a moment’s hesitation. “Absolutely. I’d say, there are better people out there than me.”

His gaze softens, and it makes me feel a little bit small; I shouldn’t be. Knowing where it’s coming from– but I can’t help but feel defeated to even question the state of our relationship, when there was never any problem in the first place.

“You think there’s other people better than you, and that I deserve better than you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I love you, and for that, you deserve the best.”

“But,” Dazai tilts his head, “Isn’t it true that I love you as well?”

I glance back into his eyes, my own eyes widening with surprise. He seems to know the answer, but, as always, he wants to hear someone say it.

“It is.” I say.

“See? So, if we were to go by that logic, I think I deserve you the same way you deserve me.”

He rests his hand over mine.

“But,” I frown, “In the case, if we were to meet someone else–”

“Would it be fair of us to abandon each other?” He asks.

“-- No, and, I mean, if we do.. How much do we really love each other, if that happens?”

Dazai is silent, simply nodding his head to indicate to me to go on. I take a deep breath, continuing. “So, that makes me a little anxious.”

I wrap my arms around him, letting out a big sigh. “It feels like betrayal– I would never want to betray you. I would question my very own heart: ‘Why would you love someone else? I thought this one was the one.”

Nuzzling my face into his chest, I take in his scent. I’ve never really taken notice of people’s scent before. It just never occurred to me that it was just as big of a personal trait as someone's eyes, hands or smile could be. But, recently, when I find myself in his arms, I’d realize he has a distinct sort of scent; It’s something my vocabulary could hardly describe, but it’s a scent that you’ll always know is his .

“Then, again, if my heart never told me that this would happen, why would it tell me the reasons why?” What a troublesome heart I have.

“I understand.”

Dazai holds me closer, and I realize another realization: I am small. Dazai is, obviously, quite a tall man, so of course, I am small. I never really felt that way, not until now, at least. It’s not a self-depricating kind of ‘small’, but, it’s who I am, and who I am is in his arms.

“Even if I did meet someone who I think may have the potential to steal me from you, perhaps, I would try to ignore it.” Dazai mused. “After all, the love I have for you, and the one you have for me, It’s not something I’d easily discard.”

“That makes me question love.”

My hand searches for his, and when I feel his bandaged hand, I intertwine it with my own.

“People say love is certain, but, if people can fall out and find someone else– It definitely isn’t. If we were to push down those feelings, are we betraying our own feelings for a diluted version of happiness, or, are we right to not trust the indecisiveness of our thoughts?”

“Perhaps love isn’t something that’s constant. Maybe it’s more of an ebb and flow kind of thing.”

“Then, I guess there’s no such thing as being ‘deserving’ of love. I think it's something that, simply, should be.”

“Hmm.” Dazai hums, closing his eyes. A strand of his hair falls onto his face, and I reach out to tuck it behind his ear. He smiles.

“If one of us were to stray, then, perhaps the other would soon follow. Love is something that can only survive with mutual effort. Love, in that sense, is not automatic.”

“I suppose. “ I purse my lips, feeling my head begin to ache, just a little, and my thoughts have begun to clump. “I don’t really know where I was going with this, Osamu.”

Dazai blinks, raising his eyebrows. “Osamu?”

“Sorry.”

“I like it. It’s okay.”

“I just-” I pause, a bit flustered. “I just thought about it and I felt a little scared. I love you, a lot, and I don’t think I could ever imagine not loving you, if we’ve come this far. Why would I stop? That’s just something I could never think of.”

“You don’t need to think about it so much.” Dazai chuckles, a small cheeky smile on his face as he pinches my cheek. “Don’t worry about any of the hypotheticals, because, as of right now, there really aren’t any reasons for you to stop. At least, not to my knowledge. So, you’re welcome to continue loving me.”

I blink, and again, and again. A simple, but astonishing statement. Hypotheticals are like ferris wheels, I realize. You go round and round, you see the same things in different times, weathers, skies and places– but it all stops the moment you get off. Does that make sense? If it doesn’t, then that’s how it should be. I could only open my mouth brainlessly and mumble:

“I guess so.”

Dazai’s lips quirked up, and in place of a chuckle, he giggled.

“See? You don’t have anything to worry about. Right now, I’m certain that you love me. There’s no ‘what if’, ‘why’ or ‘how much’ to it, and I have no doubts about the way I love you.”

How contradicting for him to proclaim that when our hearts are unreliable narrators to the story of our choices. I guess that’s why it’s a story, and I guess that’s why people find it entertaining.

Or, I guess it means, I should stop getting too deep into my head and see things the way they are, unless something hints to me that I shouldn’t. Yes, that’s much more simple than a metaphor, or any hypothetical.

“I love you.” I mumble.

“I love you too.”

#dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #moedull #YIP YIP YIPPIEE

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moedull · 28 days

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FOOL

A/N: "The world gives you so many options but only one choice" ; this is made with love for my favourite fictional man that gives me headaches and very deep feelings at night when I think about him. Based off the song 'Fool' by Cavetown cause that shit goes hard

super self indulgent, there WILL be a part two. When? on the date when it happens

AKA. This was originally posted on ao3 and here it is on tumblr, because, why not!

words: 3,472

tags: Hurt/No Comfort (o゜▽゜)o☆ , the reader is referred to with fem terms (girl, miss, etc. SORRY!! THE NEXT FICS WILL BE MORE GENDER NEUTRAL!)

Enjoy!

PT 1.

Dazai Osamu is an enigma and a danger to anyone in the vicinity. That is why I must find him.

It’s absolutely foolish to wander the darker parts of Yokohama to simply meet him. It is so much more foolish to visit the bar he supposedly frequents. Both of us, at the ripe age of 15, and only one of us had killed hundreds.

I had a chance once. It was on a warm, summer day. I barely remember what I had done that day and why I was lingering at a deserted children’s playground.

My legs were sore and there was a pair of swings. It was hung low, almost near the ground of dirt. It’s a shame that we have to grow, because my legs had to bend when I sat down and I’d begun to feel a little out of place.

There. I saw him.

He walked by, hands in pocket as he walked forward on the lone road. Houses of homes surrounded the entire area, but of course, he never belonged to any of them.

It made me tremble. It made my legs wobble and my hands go cold. All from excitement. It was all from something so giddy that I had dropped my headphones.

There. He turned his head in my direction.

It was like being a deer caught in the headlights. He stopped, standing in place. He raised his eyebrows as he tilted his head back and a little to the side, giving me a clear view of his half bandaged face. He pursed his lips, blinking slowly. It was akin to a cat who was trying to tell you ‘I love you’, but I had no idea what this brief moment of interest meant.

As said, it was brief. He simply shrugged and continued on, as I still stared with widened eyes.

That was months ago.

Like any classic bar on a rainy day, jazz music plays from the hidden stereos. The bartender fiddles with a pen and paper, calculating the amount I’d need to pay for the fries and soda I’d just bought. It’s kinda funny to me despite the slightly judgemental look he gave me when I asked for it to be given in a wine glass and a small, fancy plate.

Something to make the night a bit better is the rain. It must be feeling gentle as it seems to knock on the windows rather than hit it.

There. The sound of a bell.

It is an extremely difficult process to not look at someone. It is impossible to not look in the direction of any sound even if you know what it means. This usually leads to new or unchanged information, but this one was more than new, and it was more than anxiety inducing.

He has seen me.

It was like the first time, but this time, he can’t shrug nor walk away. My soda in a wine glass and fries on a fancy platter had arrived, and It would be rude to walk out when the lowly-paid bartender had worked so hard. An inconvenience, that’s what it’ll have to be for today.

That’s what I think he’s thinking anyways.

He must also be thinking that he should just deal with it as he takes a seat next to me.

Everything he says to the bartender and everything that is said back is utterly incomprehensible at this point. I had strategized, planned and executed this entire thing with absolute confidence in the beginning. Now, I had found myself gripping my own flesh as hard as I could possibly endure, and as subtle as I could make it to be next to him.

“I have a question.”

So, it begins.

I can’t seem to find a proper pace to turn my head. It was almost like I was glitching when my head jittered from yanking my neck as fast as possible to the laziest way possible. Whatever I did, he made no comment. It is as torturous as it is merciful.

“Yes?”

“What’s with the soda?”

I feel my face drop into a comical frown. It must’ve been funny, as he began to laugh loudly. Whether it was mocking or out of amusement, it can’t be denied. It was the prettiest one I’ve heard in a while.

“I don’t drink.” I state simply after realizing my prolonged silence. I tilted my head, giving a sideways glance to the wineglass. “I feel very fancy when someone asks me what it is, and I reply with an obscure wine flavour that tricks them into thinking I am a sophisticated and intelligent woman beyond comprehension.”

He continues to stare and the edges of his lips curl up faintly. “And what obscure wine would that be, Miss? ”

“What’s your mood today?” I sip the soda, feeling the acid and diabetes from one sniff alone. “It’s like a weather prediction, except for your emotions in a bottle.” I wave the wine glass slightly, as if it were some invention.

He begins to smirk, resting his chin on his hands. “I see, I see.”

There’s a pause as he closes his eyes. He faintly hums some song I have never heard of before. One of the perks of being close, I guess.

In an instant, he opened his eyes and snapped his fingers. He looks back at me, pointing eagerly. “I’m feeling depressed today. How about giving me something suitable for my feelings?”

I raise my eyebrows, blinking. “That was direct.��

He only smiles, shrugging.

“It could be…” I pause, furrowing my eyebrows. “It could be like a nice warm blanket.”

I hold the wine glass again, pointing to the liquid inside as I give it a little swirl. “It has a very dark color but it's not gloomy at all. It's a type of dark when you’re under the comforts of the blanket at 10pm. It is like a hug.”

“A very comforting description. What’s its name?”

I open my mouth for a brief moment, only to lamely close it. I glance up, squinting as I think of a name. “To be honest, people don’t usually ask that after I make up such a philosophical meaning. It could be your favourite blanket brand.”

He giggles and his eyes squint slightly as he tries to stifle it with a modest smile. “A very unique naming convention. I like it.”

“Thanks.”

“Your words are truly captivating, ” He begins slowly, as if the entire sentence was a drawl. He fiddles with the pen in front of him, It was the one the bartender used earlier. He adds, “You seem to have mastered the art of bullshitting.”

The conversation went on, and I had found myself enjoying his company more than I should be. It’s this sort of enjoyment that begins to turn into some form of affection. It’s the affection where you can’t help but stare when he doesn’t (or when I think so), It’s the affection where I saw him smile.

PT 2. A FLASHBACK

Repetition gets boring. I suppose that’s why we’d find ourselves walking the streets of Yokohama late at night. The sounds of our boots clicking on the sidewalk echoes, and was only interrupted by a faint meow.

In an instant, Dazai’s interest was piqued. He, himself, was like a cat. He glances around the area and to what I assume, pinpointing the exact source of the noise. Then, he’d split away and walk to a line of bushes in front of an apartment building – all the lights are off – and kneel.

He’d tilt his head, and then his entire body to the side to look under the shrubbery. There lies a fat, gray and white cat, much to his satisfaction.

There. He smiles.

Sometimes, I forget we’re 15. He’s 15 in the way he coos and smiles, holding his bandaged hands out as slowly as possible.

“Hi, little cat.” He’d whisper, leaning in and extending his hand when the cat doesn’t flinch. Eventually, he began petting the little friend and relished in their sweet purrs and the vibrations that came along with it.

He’s 15 in the way he didn’t actually forget I was there. He turned his entire body to my direction, grinning widely and holding the fat cat in his arms. He extends it towards me, like a proud mom showing off her baby. I don’t think he even realizes what’s happening; he’s simply 15 in the way he’s happy.

“Cute, right?” He says in a soft voice, glancing down at the cat. Its eyes are closed, and it seems to enjoy the warmth Dazai’s providing.

“Very.” I stare at him.

PT 3.

“You’re here again.” Dazai tilts his head, his stare a bit blank. He stands in front of the door, blocking any way to squeeze or enter the bar.

I nod, clutching some part of my coat for reassurance.

It’s been a few months since we’ve officially talked at the bar. It’s almost like a ritual when everytime we do it, it always rains. Tonight was supposed to be no different, but Dazai loves to surprise people like that.

“That makes this… the fourth? The fifth?” He pretends to count, tapping his finger on his chin as he glances up. It’s beyond any number you can count on both hands alone. “Not that I’m complaining, but, you’re persistent.”

I shrug as he continues, his tone almost flat as a board. “What are you doing around so late all the time?”

“Information gathering?”

Dazai takes a step closer, eyeing me up and down. I can’t tell if he’s assessing something or just… looking. “I see.”

“It’s just for fun.” I add, slowly backing towards an unfortunate cement wall that creates this very alleyway.

His eyes glance over to the wall and a slight smirk curls upon his lips. He comments, “You like to do a lot of dangerous things for fun.”

“Well, I’ve never encountered someone as you are,” I gulp, pausing as I watch him slowly move forward, “I can’t make sense of you. I can’t be certain of what you could do, say or think.”

He tilts his head and his eyes somehow lose life in them. He’s not amused, he’s not mad- I’m not sure. His face stills, if that is even possible.

“I’ve always been described that way.” He speaks plainly. “Mysterious, complicated, unpredictable- All things I’ve heard before.”

“Well, I intend to solve it.”

He looks down at me, leaning a little bit forward. He stays where he is and his lips split into a full on smirk. The rain falls on his hair, sliding down to its edges and dripping onto the ground below. “Even I have yet to grasp the entirety of myself. What makes you think you’ll have better luck than I?”

I purse my lips, tilting my head. “I think it’s… something if someone wants to try to understand you.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

“Well, that’s my answer.”

“Well,” He hums, “What if I don’t want to be understood? I’m not the most mentally stable person.”

I manage to curl my lips into a coy smile, shrugging. “Me either. Ever wonder why I started doing this in the first place?”

Dazai raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening a bit. There’s something about his expression that balances between the line of mocking and pure amusement. “How unfortunate for you that you’ve chosen me, of all people, to play with. I’m probably the wrong choice.”

He seems to want to say something else, but settles to stay silent and wait for my own answer.

“I think you’re just right.” I smile, even though it’s dangerous to do at this moment.

He raises both his eyebrows, his lips turning into a small frown. He doesn’t look disappointed, but not satisfied either. “How flattering. You must find something desirable in me to be this persistent.

Harsh, but true. “You could say that.”

Dazai continued to lean forward, closing in whatever distance we had left. My face begins to warm, and the air around us is thick and heavy.

He stops midway, letting the moment drag on like torture.

I feel the urge to pull back and get away from how suffocating he’s making this thing be. If not for the wall, and for the fact that he had effectively cornered me, I would’ve run away. Probably .

I figured, I might as well settle to break the silence by asking a question.

“If I asked you a question, would you answer it?”

His eyebrows knit together in contemplation. “Depends.”

“You make me feel things.” I admit, feeling my entire body begin to tremble. “Sometimes, it feels like you do too. A few times, you don’t. I know that you know what you’re doing, so, I know you can answer this.”

I furrow my eyebrows together, trying to plead with my eyes if that’s even fucking possible. “Give me one, please.”

And there it is.

A rare, vulnerable look in his eyes. It could’ve been mistaken as something blank, something akin to a dead fish, but, it’s watching me in a way I’ve never felt. It’s a stare that puts you on the spot, like if it was your first time doing a public speech.

I could only stare back with my anxiety heightening. My grip tightens and I glance down, making my hat nod down to hide my face with the brim.

It’s like the world has stopped, but him. I jerk my head back up, freezing in place as he slowly leans in.

“Wait-” I yelp, pushing him back. “You can’t. You don’t feel this way.”

Dazai begins to smile, but he stays still. His eyes bore into mine, making a thousand butterflies go crazy inside my stomach. He’s like some bad food I ate anyways because I was hungry.

“And, how do you know?” He asks.

“How do you ?” I retorted, frustrated and confused.

Dazai leans back a little, tilting his head to the side. He just stands there, as if wanting me to reach a conclusion for him. “This may be a shocker to you, but I do actually feel things.”

I blink, briefly embarrassed of what I’ve implied. “I didn’t- No, I mean, It is, actually. I can’t decipher you. I don’t know how to understand you.”

He continues to smile, but now it feels a bit forced. “You must feel stupid.”

“...Yes.” I shakily exhale, staring into his eyes with my own, widened ones. “Like a fool.”

An awkward silence follows and the moment drags on. He flicks his gaze to my lips, considering something for a moment before glancing back to my eyes. He pulls back slightly. “You must think I’m a very strange person.”

I don’t respond.

He blinks at the silence. His lips curl into a small smile, but his gaze is piercingly intense. “You’re very perceptive, did you know that?”

“Stop it.” I whisper a plea, my lips turning into a big frown. “It’s so cruel of you to say nice things like that.”

He laughs. That light, teasing laugh of his. “You’ve been following me around for quite a while, so, you should know well enough by now that I’m not exactly the nicest or kindest person to come across.”

“Exactly.” I sigh heavily, almost glaring at him.

However, his expression shifts to something more soft. He takes a step back, his smile slowly fading into something more polite. He slowly opens his mouth to ask, “Do you want me to stop?”

His eyes narrow when I don’t respond, and he takes a step closer- closer than he’s ever been.

“What do you think of me?” I managed to blurt out.

He doesn’t respond, and there’s no reason for me to comprehend anything else except for when his lips press against mine, and his arms slowly wrap around me.

I can’t help it. I melt into the kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck. I can’t help but close my eyes and feel the tears begin to fall.

All the tension and pent-up energy between the two of us felt like it was released in this one kiss. Everything we’ve bantered and said so far has always been tip-toed around a greater, unmentioned topic.

It hurts so much when he doesn’t answer, It hurts so much when he distracts me to think of anything else but the complex when he pulls me closer. It’s overwhelming; It feels so good that you can’t do anything but feel.

I can’t bear to open my eyes, not if he’s looking back. I almost choke back a pathetic sob as I gently tug on the back of his hair, pulling him in deeper (if that is even possible) with my arms.

He’s so cruel to be my first kiss. He’s so cruel to be my first experience with love. It’s so cruel of him to prolong this entire thing, knowing he’ll just walk away and never do it again. He’s so cruel and I love him.

I love him without really knowing much about him. I just want it all to last, to stay here forever. I can’t help it if I begin to sob into the kiss, my hat toppling down, my legs wobbling- my entire body weak. Yet, It’s still raining.

This must be the most pathetic, but most real thing he has ever heard from me. It must be the most fragile, and corrupting thing to break- something so naive within me.

He pulls away, inevitably. He gently cups my face, brushing my bangs away and gazing at me with something akin to affection.

Almost.

“I should go.”

I choke back another sob, my chest heaving up and down erratically. I drop to the ground, ignoring the damp puddle the rain left behind as I hug my knees.

“Fuck you.” I manage to say as I watch him step away with a completely unreadable expression clouded by my tears– my mind.

“ Fuck you.” My voice cracks when I yell. “You’re so mean. I hate loving you!”

“ Oh, please.” He kneels down, his eyes narrowed. His smirk is back. It always comes back when he’s annoyed.

“I never forced you to love me,” He begins to mock, “No one forced you to come crawling after me like a lovestruck little bunny.”

“Did you think I was gonna take you with me to my apartment? I’m nothing but trouble, you know that. You’ve seen what I do. Why would someone like you ever want someone like me? ”

I wince, struggling to form any coherent word beyond mindless, babbling sobs. “I just do,” I manage to mumble, “I want to take care of you, hold you. I see so much in you, I know that you can move forward from whatever the past made you go through. I just want to be there when you do.”

His face softens, somehow. It’s as if there’s a flicker of empathy through the darkness of his eyes, but it disappears as soon as I catch on.

He exhales sharply and he doesn’t speak right away, staring blankly at me. It was almost like mercy until he did.

“You’re naive.” It was said with all the exasperation he could gather.

“That’s the first thing I knew when I talked to you. Maybe, one day, we would end, and I had accepted that beforehand.” I return with all the love that I could gather. “I’d still love you even if you stopped loving me, or never did.”

“That’s stupid.” He murmurs. “You’re willing to be subjected to pain over and over again, just so you can understand me? Does that honestly sound like a good idea to you?”

“Fuck if I know!” I groan. “ No, It doesn’t but, I’m still doing it-”

“It would be better if you just stopped. The more you attempt to, the more it’ll hurt when it ends.”

“But, it ends, right?”

There’s no response, only a bitter taste left in my tongue as he stares into my eyes once more, searching for an answer– anything that can explain myself to him.

“Tonight.”

I don’t know if it’s even an exaggeration when people say their heart drops into their stomach. Mine certainly did and disintegrated in the acidic liquid when he walked away without another glance.

I’m not sure what choice I could’ve made to change the outcome, if I’ve been expecting this at all. Neither of us could explore these feelings without exploding into emotions that we’d rather call anomalies, and outbursts akin to something of a toddler. I wouldn’t mind, if only he didn’t either.

Does he love me? I wouldn’t know, and I’m still not sure what to say, because everything I can think of will hurt the image of him– of me –that I’ve conjured up in my mind that day.

#dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #I FORGOT HOW TO TAG #moedull

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