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chuunai · 3 months

Note

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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chuuyrr · 4 months

Text

✮⋆˙ 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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chocsra · 8 months

Text

"Gentleman, you say?"

15! Chuuya x reader

Reader is implied to be fem!, could still be gn!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Contents: your mafioso roomate being annoying, fifteen era, mafia! reader, pre-relationship, idiots in love, teen romance, fluff, ooc? chuuya (idk)

Sorry for grammar! Not proofread!

Working in the Port Mafia wasn't so hard.

You were granted a new family, money and status. There were a select few members who were noteably young, as young as teenagers. This was mainly because of the gifted, limiting manpower into making criminal organizations choose children as their subordinates.

You didn't really mind it--being a kid in the mafia. It had it's ups and downs, yes, you did murder; but what would you have been really doing if you tried to live as a civilian as a gifted?

One thing you didn't like though--even hated, was the Port Mafia dormitory.

Constant parties, the overwhelming scent of alcohol and cigarettes in hallways, and don't start on the drama. Your only source of peace was the empty unit next to yours--at least that gave some sort of silence in the dreadful nights of Yokohama. Cramped in the tight apartment that secretly held mafioso teenagers, ones which the other residents thought of as school delinquents.

Until that asshole took it; the short ginger boy with a permanent scowl on his face, the boy who had the best style you had ever seen. And you hated it. Ever since you were fifteen, he and his smelly bandaged friend would storm into his apartment; have the loudest arguments--no, fights in the middle of the night.

Before, if you couldn't sleep, a nice cup of hot milk and basking in the night's breeze would do the trick. Now, there was a 50/50 chance he was there smoking on the balcony next to you, alone or with that annoying mummy boy.

It's been a few months since then, and you were sure that he hasn't even recognized you once as his neighbour; and it pissed you off, considering the amount of sleepless nights he caused you. It was safe to say you had one-sided-beef with the boy who used screaming as his fight or flight response.

And because finding someone absolutely insufferable meant asking numerous people about them, you asked a few of your subordinates who were into drama about said boy, eager to learn more information about him. Because he pissed you off, is why.

"Oh, you mean Chuuya? He like, used to be the King of the Sheep before he joined the mafia, I'm pretty sure." Your friend chided, you and a few other girls were standing in front the doorframe of Kouyou's office, all surrounded in a circle. "Really? That's wild." You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. "Yeah, and the guy who recruited him is that emo guy; he's supposed to be Bosses successor, right?" She asks, twirling a strand of her hair. "His name is Dazai, and yeah. They're called 'Double Black' or something." Your other friend joined in.

Just as you were talking, a tall woman with ginger hair and pale skin stepped out of her office; her elegent hands clasped together under her pink kimono.

"What are you girls talking about?" The woman questioned, her hair tightly held up by long gold pins. "[Y/N] was just asking about Chuuya, sis." Your friend replied, you scoffed in response. "I was just asking because he's an annoying neighbour!" The other girls laughed. "Oh, Chuuya, I was recently requested to take him under my wing." Kouyou responded, revealing more information. "Actually? What do you think of him?" One of the quieter girls asked enthusiastically, the woman only chuckled in response.

"He's quite the gentleman, I'll say."

Kouyou's words only echoed in your ears as you lay in bed, a pillow ontop of your chest. "Gentleman.." You repeat, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. "Gentleman my ass!" You kick the wall next to your bed to no avail, tightly wrapping your arms around the pillow. "If he was, he would've seen how tired my eyes are from not sleeping.. and finally shut the fuck up.." You mutter with heavy eyelids. It was around 2 am. And it was one of those quiet nights, thankfully; but you still had trouble falling asleep.

As you were about to finally drift off to sleep, cradling your pillow in your arms; a loud strum of a guitar sprung you awake. It sounded like a electric guitar, and the person playing it had a shit ton of energy. A sultry voice sang melodically as loud waves of music crashed from his guitar. You had an idea of who it was.

Storming out of your cramped apartment, only in a thin t-shirt along with loose shorts, you scrammed over to Chuuya's apartment door angerly. "I swear to God.." You curse under your breath, the damn guitar still audible. Closing your fist, you firmly knock on the boy's door.

Knock, knock

The fast-paced strum of a rock song quickly stopped, light footsteps could be heard behind the steel shaft, before he finally unlocks it.

"Yeah?" The boy cracks the door open, he had his short ginger hair down; and he wasn't wearing the black fedora and choker like he usually did. A red and white electric base guitar slung lightly over his shoulder and stomach, the cord connected to the bottom, leading to what you assumed was his bedroom. Chuuya was wearing loose black sweatpants along with an oversized white t-shirt. Even though the boy was small and lean, you couldn't help but notice the exposed muscles on his forearms. 'Shit.' You cursed at yourself, before meeting his stormy blue eyes once more.

"You're so damn loud all the time, can't you play that at another time of day?" You huffed, crossing your arms. "There are people trying to sleep." It wasn't the safest option to yell at a criminal who had possible connections you had no idea of, but you were also a criminal, and would definitely kick his ass if he tried anything, right?

Chuuya looked at you with a slight frown, but you were right in the end, so he sighed and ran his lithe fingers through his ginger locks. "My bad." He mutters, feeling a bit embarrassed. "That's all you can say?" You murmur, you felt a little bad, but he was the waking cause of your terrible eyebags. "You could be a little more quiet next time." You add on, looking off to the side.

"Yeah, I know. My fault." The redhead said, apologizing begrudgingly. You only sighed and assured it's okay now before you soon left. Knowingly storming off into your apartment as the boy watched you with guilt yet irritation on his face.

Although the next morning, you rubbed your eyes and opened the door to take out the trash. Only noticing a small box infront of your doorstep with a yellow sticky note on it, you crouched down to properly read it.

'Sorry we had to meet that way, neigbour. Take this as a peace offering.

- Chuuya N.'

As you opened the box curiously, it was homemade packaged bento, along with a small corgi made out of rice on the side. The stupidity of it made you laugh a little. Even though his handwriting made you question if he knew how to write at all before this; a smile still crept on your face as you took the box and note inside.

"Quite the gentleman, huh?"

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