#pm fluff
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.
#this isn’t the best but !!#i’m so desperate for him rn heowjqllq#bsd x reader#dazai x reader#dazai osamu x reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai imagines#dazai x you#dazai fluff#pm!dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai x y/n#osamu dazai x you#dazai x fem reader#dazai smut#osamu dazai bsd#bsd x you#bsd x y/n#dazai osamu#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd smut#rylie writes ₊˚🎧
2K notes
·
View notes
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
637 notes
·
View notes
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
455 notes
·
View notes
Text
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!"
© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.
#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 ‧₊˚ ⋅
1K notes
·
View notes
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.
#written by terra#sincerely terra#bsd#bsd manga#bsd x reader#bsd manga spoilers#bungou stray dogs#dazai x reader#osamu dazai x reader#engraved with hope#dazai#dazai bungou stray dogs#dazai bsd#dazai osamu x reader#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai angst#dazai fluff#dazai x y/n#dazai x you#osamu dazai angst#pm! dazai x reader#port mafia dazai x reader#dazai osamu#this was kinda a fic for myself
327 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some fem skk, as a treat
#I think Dazai had long hair in pm and cut it all off when he left#because#I wanted an excuse to draw both 🫶🫶#this is Dazais revenge for Chuuyas piercings btw#bsd#skk#chuuya#dazai#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs fanart#chuuya nakahara#chuuya nakahara fanart#soukoku#soukoku fluff#skk fanart#soukoku fanart#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai osamu#fem dazai#femzai#fem chuuya#chuuyabsd#bungou stray dogs chuuya#bsd chuuya#ely-comics
637 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hc that Fem!skk have synchronized periods.
The interesting thing about this is while most people would think that would be a disaster, it's sort of a blessing.
Fem!Dazai would hide her period cramps and deny experiencing any effects, though at any chance of affection would go right for it because it sucks and hurts and any fraction of comfort is better than none.
Fem!Chuuya loves being held sm she just embraces anything and everything while crying sometimes from how cute the thing she's hugging is (especially if it's a plushie or a puppy). That's a monthly staple.
So combined, they become the most cuddly-infused monsters with Chuuya being all over Dazai and Dazai allowing it for how nice it feels.
And it's so funny because in their PMS stages they'd be at each other's fucking throats and so close to snapping each other's necks.
While the next day they're hugging and cuddling and being miserable together.
Fem!Mori just gives them that whole dreaded week off.
(And after that week passes they both deny ever being this affectionate. Every single month.)
#got my period today and thought of this gdhdudj#someone get them out of my brain#I'd dedicate a post to Fem!SKK during their PMS stage but that would be a disaster#I'm just narrating me and my sister btw#dazai osamu#chuuya nakahara#genderbend#fem!dazai#fem!chuuya#bsd dazai#bsd chuuya#bsd#bungou stray dogs#skk#sokouku#soukoku#bungo stray dogs#fluff#fem!sokouku#fem skk#fem dazai#fem chuuya#tw periods#cw periods#J's Writing ✍🏽#J's post
222 notes
·
View notes
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?"
#bungou stray dogs#bsd#15 chuuya#bsd chuuya#bsd x reader#chuuya nakahara#chuuya x reader#pm dazai#teen romance#romance#fluff#15 light novel bsd#bsd fanfic#chuuya nakahara x reader#bsd fifteen#dark era bsd#Spotify
690 notes
·
View notes
Text
My baby my baby....
·˚✎ ﹏"I'm sorry... I'm such a shity older brother....just please don't leave me.....not like this..."
Port mafia times. Dazai has a younger sibling. Being the traumatized 15 year he is. He pushed away the only one person that was close to him. A stupid wish for you to die like the death he craved so much. But what if that one wish he didn't actually want came true. Those words that he said of wished he can take back. The wish he never wished to say, the one wish he wished that was replaced with all his other wishes. The only person that believed in him when he treated them so...so wong.
Tw. Mention of suicide, death, kinda descriptive mention of a body, violent behavior, manipulation, toxic family relationship, yandere-like behavior. Angst. Spoilers to dark ark. !!platonic relationship!! {Y/N} is 10. Dazai being dazai.
It was after a fight you two had. Hearing the front door close with a soft click. It was after his loud mouth to say something to scare you. God, he was so used to seeing the fear in other eyes. But seeing how you cry and ran out of the house. Made something inside in heart snap. No. He didn't consider himself human. He moved towards the bed sitting on it not caring if he got the sheets dirty. He was a fucking sinner anyways. What more to bring into the roof over the two heads. He didn't deserve to be called your sibling. You should just Die. Those thoughts filled his head overwhelming him again. His long black trench coat long discarded in the shared room. Since Mori decided to toss the two siblings into a small ass apartment. It had the needed things to live. It was better than the shipping container if anything. God he fucking hates him. He hates everyone to be honest. Other than Oda, Ango, and well maybe you. He tossed you away, yelled, and took his frustration out on poor you. He would never raise his hand but the words he said he could never take back. His younger sibling always comes back. He didn't blame you if you hated him. He wouldn't even be mad if you stab him in the night. Killed him. He was already restless in the night. Hearing your soft breathing as you sleep next to him. It was better right? You would be living a better life right? Maybe the two of you can commit suicide together and live the next life away from this hell. But he was smart and knew you wouldn't want that. He sighed as he moved to get up from the bed. Grumbling as he raised a hand to massage his head that hurt. Grabbing his coat and tossing it on his shoulder. He should let you cool down first before even trying to remotely talk to you. He knew it was easy to get you on his side. You listened to him better than the men he had the power of. As the sun set as the moon began to rise a bit peaking out from the tall buildings. It's been a couple hours. Where the hell could you go so long now. Never any stars just tall lanky buildings in this city. Yokomizo was a pretty big city after all. Pulling out his black flip-phone. He started to text your phone. Matching phones...he had a pure black one and you well a pure white one. He held no reaction when he shoved the present to you. Yeah he may be an ass be he not that much of an asshole....? Thought the way your eyes light up. When the box was opened. Made something tic in him was it his heart or mind...? It wouldn't hurt to spoil you some more.
Yea where are you. 7:01
Unread.
Get your ass home or your grounded for a week. 7:36
Unread
Are you even listing to me right now to pick up the fucking phone? Do you don't know how to type or something? 8:25
Unread
Pick up the fucking phone {y/n}. 8:41
Unread
I'm not playing around pick up or come home. Right now {y/n} 9:20
Unread
His eyes twitched a bit as the calls went unanswered as well as his text. The text reflected in one eye since the other was bandaged up. He scoffed and shoved his phone into his pocket. Moving to go out of the apartment harshly closing the door behind him. The apartment was clean since you cleaned it alot. Both your clothing and stuff. A silent thank you should of say every day coming home to something so peaceful and clean. You were only 10. He was 15 and didn't know how to do half of that stuff. Maybe he needs to take your tv time away so you can stop learning to back-talk him. He was always in a bitter mood or drunk when he came home. He shoved his hands in his pocket. It was no surprise Dazai knew where you went after a fight. The park he always took you. To see you smile with all the other younger children as he stayed in the shade. He wasn't a figure to see out in the public in the light. Always the dark or shadows. Thought this fight was more different than the other. Some share words then you both get ready for bed and sleep. No, this fight was like his last straw. Mori decided to fuck with him and send him on a mission. A dangerous one. He used your name in vain. Mori did know his weakness. It was you. You. Oh, how he does anything to punch his lights out. Once more he did and didn't get along well with you. Small memories of the easy life he had with the small form in his arms. So helpless and adorable in his arms. He missed those days. Just to let losses and be the kid he needed to be. To be that child with you. He was stressed and tired. Being also paired with the new ginger in the mafia. He was going to secretly spoil you with gifts when he got home. Seeing how you looked at a plushie from a window when he went out with you on the weekends. He failed to see a rival male from an alley away waiting for the two of you. Taking photos before leaving. It wasn't any surprise had many enemies. But he was always smarter than them. Why didn't he see it then?
It all started when. You asked to join him tomorrow to go to the Mafia headquarters. The place he ban you from going since it was so dangerous there. Too many prying eyes. He fell for it and now he doesn't even know he can leave. He wouldn't let the same thing happen to you. He doesn't even like to talk about the work he does with you. Sometimes coming home dirty or covered in the blood from the missions. Yes, he was easygoing at times but he let that façade drop at home. The stupid small apartment you both called some sort of home.
"The fuck do you know about my work!? Hm? your only 10 {y/n} so shut the hell-" He was quite tired and wasn't willing to hear anything at the moment just wanting to go to bed. The shared bed the two of you shared. He never dared to cuddle or even touch you. Both have separate blankets on the bed. Always back to back. On the bed.
"Osamu! please- I promise to be quiet-" you beg to join. He didn't blame you. No one wanted to be locked up in an apartment all day and only let out on the weekend. Nothing to do other than watch TV or the suicide books on the shelf.
"No is a no {y/n}. I'm not speaking again. So shut the fuck up." He stated as he crossed his arms. He was bigger than your form. Well, that was quite clear to know being the older one after all. He sent a glare your way as he didn't expect you to storm off. It wouldn't be the first fight or the last.
He arrived at the park he always took you to. He didn't need to hide this time behind the big trees. The night was out and well the demons come out to play. He scans the playground part he always used to find you at before he will "drag" your ass home. A moment he remembered you were upset you couldn't go to school and came here. Sitting in the swing. Like always he sat next to you on the swing in silence. Tonight wasn't like that night. He smelled like blood. Something he was used to. Seeing people. Shot, stabbing, and pulling each other apart were all normal to him. Till he saw a sigh that made his breath stop. He started to shake a bit as he slowly moved forward. It wasn't you right? That white Phone that was broken next to the body slumped on the ground covered in blood. It wasn't the same right?? RIGHT? He slowly made his way over not believing the sight he was seeing. It's not you right not you, not you. It was you. A slumped body on the concrete ground bruised and bloody bleeding from who knows where. His baby sibling. That did nothing wrong. To need this. He needed this. For all he did- It was till the point the color red was around part of your body. He fell to his knees with his rapid breath. His one eye wasn't deceiving him. The worse nightmare came true. The nightmare he never wants to be true. A wish he didn't want but said it because he was a peace of shit. He moved his shaking hand towards the body. Lifting it close to his chest. He didn't care if the blood got on him he was used to it. But the blood icky him because it was your blood. He didn't cry or scream. Just shook he felt how small your breaths were. How quiet and weak it was. How fucking dare you do this to him. How dare someone touch his sibling. He quickly moved the body in his arms to a bridal style holding the form in his arms before he began to run. Run to the place he told you not to go run to the man he keep you so far away from. Fucking sick pervert. He knew the nurses were out for the night. The night nurses didn't do shit. Per experience. He ran to the man he called a boss knowing he was the last hope for your survival.
"Don't you dare fucking die on me. Or your never hearing the end of this."
He wasn't sure if that was just to reassure himself or make an unspoken promise to you to keep you safe. To keep you. To keep you as his baby sibling. Pure from this world.
He just prays he wasn't too late to save his baby.
Hehehe cliffhanger.
Proofread - yup yup
If you like to check out the bot here, you go! <3
Might start advertising my bots in stories lol. I really need to do more better things in my life.
Please do give comments this is my second time writing.
And please request too!! I'm open for thoughts and bots to make.
#bsd fluff#yandere bsd#bsd x reader#pm dazai#dazai angst#dazai x y/n#dazai#dazai osamu#bsd#bsd scenarios#bsd spoilers#Strom story's
460 notes
·
View notes
Text
Imagine being Michael Kaiser's significant other.
Imagine it was one of those nights where you find yourself missing the warmth of your lover. He had a big game tonight, having your own things to do and take care of, you cannot afford to go all the way from overseas to see his game as much to his disappointment in which of course, he would never show you, not wanting to make you feel bad. Believe it or not, he does actually care a lot about you.
Imagine going through his side of the bed hoping to feel his warmth but who are you kidding? Only his smells lingers in it. But that was enough.
Imagine it was one of those nights were you find yourself just.. Nothing, feeling but overall overwhelmed with some feelings you can't seem to put up. Maybe it's because it's been a long time since you've seen and be with him, it wasn't enough just to see him in the screen. Funny because when he was around, all you ever did was to cringe at him for being so overbearing, but truthfully, you really love it.
Imagine missing him, badly missing him to the point where you find yourself unconsciously tearing up, staining his pillow. You just want him right beside you, you miss him so much. You can't even remember when was the last time you've seen him in person after all the works, practice, games and tight schedules on your side.
Imagine falling asleep on his side of the bed, not hearing the sound of the keys giggling and the door unlocking.
Imagine upon entering his your shared penthouse for five years, the first thing he noticed was the silence around the place, plus all the nights were turn off. Letting of a sigh, he took a glance at his wrist watch. It was 2 in the morning already. It course you'll be asleep. Honestly he could have gone a little bit earlier, he did not even attended the after party of their victory, all he wanted was his real price for victory, you. But damn it all for as soon as he arrived at the airport, what greeted him was a 12 hours delay of flight causing him to get all pissed off as he went back to celebrate with his team for a short period of time until it was time go back back again at the airport.
Imagine as soon as he entered in your shared room, the first thing he noticed upon turning on the dim lights on the corner of the room was your sleeping figure. Carefully and quietly putting down his bag on the floor as he went towards your sleeping figure quietly.
Imagine the first thing he noticed was the blue rose tattoo on the back of your neck that was matching with his. Making him remember of that time where he wanted to get a tattoo and you were the only who supported him, you were the one who came up with the idea of his tattoo in the first place, and not too long after he had one, you get one too, saying you two were a match. How long has it been?
Imagine upon caressing the tattoo on the back of your neck, you stir up on your sleep, groaning before turning. And there he notice another thing. A trace of tear on your cheeks earning a frown on his forehead and before he could even do a thing, only when did he notice you were on his side of the bed. Then he chuckle.
"Alright, that was my bad. Meine Liebe." He spoke with a smile, brushing back the lost strand of your (hair color) lock away from your face. "Must have been so lonely with me humm?" Stroking your cheeks, brushing off the tears away, he lean down and gave you a kiss on your forehead. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving anywhere without you now." He spoke, for if he was being honest with himself, he missed you so much these days.
Imagine in contrast of how everyone expected him when it comes to being in a relationship with is someone which is someone who can't seem to settle down. He treasures you so much, you who have always been their by his side despite his sometimes nasty attitude. You never gave up on him, even in the most crucial part of your relationship, you never did.
Imagine, loving you was one of the best thing ever happened and could bring him happiness and satisfaction aside from football. So just imagine the weight of feelings the ring he have bought was giving him. With a sigh of contentment, after doing his routine, he laid down right beside you where he pull you in his arms and as if your body knowing it was him, you immediately relax and snuggle close to him.
Imagine the day after, with no alarms waking you up due to having a day off at work. You woke up late but refreshed. Stretching your arms as you get up with a yawn, you failed to notice the presence of your lover looking at you from his spot at the balcony. Well more like ignoring him thinking he was nothing but an illusion caused by your yet to be awake mind.
"Did you have a good sleep meine liebe?" "Yeah, I had a dream you came home earlier this morning.." You spoke, eventually yawning afterwards as you turn to face him and to halt as you were about to get out of the bed. "Verdammt." You curse on his native language with a gasp as your eyes widen. "Bastard! You actually went home this early morning!" You spoke in delight as you hurriedly went towards him out the balcony of your shared room. "You should have waken me up!" You spoke as you hug him real tight, earning a chuckle from your lover.
"You were sleeping soundly, how could I afford to disturb the sleep of meine liebe?" "Fuck that, you know I wouldn't mind that." "Yeah I know." He chuckle, his tattooed hand running up and down on your back as he breath in your scent. Fuck, he miss you, really. "Meine liebe?" "Yeah?" "I've thought about it." "Hmm? What's it 'bout?" "We'll be having a match on your dream country." "Yeah so?" "Come with me." "Well that dep-" "Let's get married in there like you always dreamed of."
Imagine the way your jaw dropped, and then you close your mouth and gulp really hard. "Do you have a ring?" "Yeah. Which one? Engagement or for our marriage? I got both." "Scheiße" You cursed once again earning a flick on the forehead. "So is that a yes or a no?" He spoke, one hand warped around you, he other resting on his waist, one brow raised at you he waited for your reply.
Imagine making Kaiser nervous, the hell are you taking so long to answer? Do you per- "Alright." You raised up a hand to place it on his cheek, gaining his attention once again. "You were nervous aren't you?" As soon as you said that, you burst out laughing as if waiting for this exact moment.
Imagine instead of replying, he just stare at you. The way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you seems to glow up naturally under the sun or was it just him? So he smile, then he chuckle, letting out a sigh of relief as he starts to chase after you for messing with him. "You're not getting up till tomorrow once I caught you."
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2022°
#blue lock kaiser#blue lock x reader#blue lock imagines#blue lock#blue lock fluff#kaiser needs more appreciation says by me#as a kaiser simp i have to do this you know#kaiser is only soft to his so trust me and fight ne#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser#it's 10 pm and i jwu#kaiser x reader#kaiser is so pretty like danggg
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
lenaaaaaa god help me I’m so high rn I’m thinking about mpind matty pole dancing ans also giving girlie a lap dance fhis isnt good or my health I think
dont be shy pass the spliff
also mpind comeback after a bunch of wank everyone be happy x
Love me - Matty Healy
A/N: bit wanky, barely spell checked except for @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff 's weird sim reactions to whatever i write. Legend anon i hope this is filthy enough for you my love xx
wc: 4.5k
content warnings: smut, fluff, tw: my shitty comedy, handjobs, strip clubs, its george's birthday!!, begging, teasing, lap dance, matty in lingerie pt. 43, mentions of alcohol, lots of swearing, cumplay, grinding, it gets a bit sappy guys soz, sub!Matty
“A strip club? Are you never scared of being a cliché?” you scoff as the venue comes into view, strobing neon flashing in your face. The summer night is warm, a breeze kissing your skin as the gravel crackles under your feet, your quite high heels still not making you taller than George.
His birthday, the big one eight, was today, and his chosen place was of course, a local strip club.
“If that cliché is seeing half naked girls, no.” he sniggers, Matty’s bickering with Ross and Hann faintly heard behind you. You hook your arm into his as you approach the bouncer, the line surprisingly short.
“I forget you're an actual man sometimes.”
“How can you possibly forget?!” he lets go, flexing his muscles at you as some sort of display of masculinity, making you giggle behind your hand.
Matty takes this ample opportunity to swoop in from behind, pressing the side of his body up against yours. The four of you watch George proudly present his real I.D to the bouncer, a wide smile on his face as he takes it from him. The bloke gives him a weird once-over, waving him and the rest through without a hitch.
It's bright inside, but not in the way you would assume. Different colored lights strobe around, switching every 20 seconds or so, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your veins. Matty hangs on your arm as you look around, George immediately booking it to a booth with a stage as the table, wanting the best front row seat to the show. You roll your eyes at his eagerness, but then again, who could blame him?
Everyone files into the booth, George ending up wedged in the corner of the seating, uncomfortable but glass he could stretch his legs out under the table.
“Round of pints on me, happy birthday G. '' Everyone cheers, excluding Hann, who glares at Matty from across the table.
“Oh so now you have money? What about last week?” Ross lets out a quiet snigger, liking this turn of events.
“Shut up you cunt, it's G’s birthday! Lighten up a bit, old man.”
“Matty when I get my fucking hands on you-” Ross to the rescue, he presses a hand to his mate’s chest, keeping him seated.
“Alright girls, break it up.” he gives up, mouthing a curt ‘fuck you’ at Matty, rolling his eyes.
The waitress returns from the bar, bringing a platter of glasses with her. She sets them down, smiling at you before walking away, the neon lights of the club making her eyes shimmer.
“Cheers, happy 18th mate.” Matty plants a wet kiss on George’s face, making him squirm away in disgust.
“Get off you grade A wanker, your girl’s right there.” You blow him a kiss as Matty turns to you, licking a fat stripe up the side of your face, from your jaw to your cheekbone. Everyone at the table groans at his odd display of affection, Ross dramatically shielding his eyes and muttering incoherently as Matty finally sits back down, downing the rest of his pint.
Sure enough, right in the middle of Hann’s interesting story about his last date, a dancer comes over to the table. She climbs up, eyeing George, twirling around the pole a few times before doing this flip you didn't even know was humanly possible. The bralette she’s wearing glimmers in the light, reflecting off and into your eyes, distracting you.
George stares blatantly, eyes raking up and down her body as she dances, not letting her leave his line of sight. It's so obvious and she smirks at him, turning her body to face his direction before bending over, exposing her cleavage even more.
“Don't be a knob.” you hiss, not wanting to seem rude.
“She’s fit and it's quite literally her job!” a small laugh escapes the woman as she goes to speak, flattered at the exchange.
“It’s alright love, look all you want.”
“See!” George shouts a bit too loudly, proud of his correctness in strip club etiquette.
You sigh, nodding at her as Matty pokes your side.
“She is fit.” you whisper quietly, gesturing to her. Matty perks up, shoving you in offense.
“I'm fitter, don't forget.” you giggle at the statement, refusing to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
“She’s literally sparkling, I need to know what brand that is.” The rhinestone adorned lingerie set she was wearing captivated everyone at the table, hugging her curves in all the right places.
“Who’s to say I'm not either?” your eyes widen slightly at the implication, but you brush him off.
“Shut it, don't be a tosser.” his hand grips yours right before he speaks, bringing it down to the waistband of his jeans.
“I’m not.”
He uses your fingers to pull it down about an inch, revealing a pretty string of purple under his bottoms. Your breath hitches at the realization, eyes snapping up to meet his. Was he serious? Now?
“It’s George’s birthday.” you state, voice hushed so the others could overhear your conversation. Hann was already off to buy another round, leaving Ross and George to make ‘friendly’ conversation with the dancer, shamelessly staring at her tits the entire time.
“He won't mind, just look at him.”
Sure enough, George is ogling the dancer, lips parted and being such a boy it hurts. She’s clearly enjoying the attention as he leans forward, stuffing a wad of cash into the flimsy waistband of her thong, smirking.
“He’s already imagining a future with her, look!”
She sets a paper crown on his head with the words ‘birthday boy’ on it, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. A boyish blush spreads onto George’s face as her kiss leaves a mark of lipstick, Ross quickly snapping a photo of him to take the piss when they left.
“He desperately needs a lay, it's sad.” you comment, knowing it had been ages since his last girlfriend or even hookup, too focused on his coursework and music to go out more than the few times you forced him to.
“So do I, so I'd prefer it if we didn't drag this out.”
Matty gets up, climbing over you despite your quite loud protests, announcing his trip to the dance floor. You wait a few moments before following him, the sway of his hips and faint back muscles under his mesh shirt flexing as he walks, convincing you to just go with it, hoping whatever he had planned wasn't totally scandalous and wouldn't get you kicked out of the place.
He turns right past the dance floor, leading you into a narrow corridor off to the side. You catch up to him, close behind him as he slips a dancer some cash, nodding as he makes his way to the door at the end of the hall. Matty rushes in before you, the door almost slamming in your face. ‘Private room’ flashes back at you in yellow neon, making you raise your eyebrows.
The room is dark for the first few seconds as you hear Matty shuffling. Suddenly, the room lights up, giant mirrors covering the walls and ceiling, reflecting the light back and forth. You glance around, eyes landing on Matty.
A tall pole is the centerpiece of the room, pink metal running from the floor to the ceiling. Matty leans on it, left hand wrapping around it as he spins, smirking at you as you watch him, something stirring inside of you.
“Did you plan this?” you ask, a skeptical look on your face.
“Maybe.” his fingers run up his chest, playing with his nipples right in front of you. His voice drips with lust, coating your mind with only a few words, making it difficult to get even semi-coherent sentences out.
“Jesus, you're mental.” you gasp softly as he moves, fluid and sure, captivating you with every change of direction.
“But you love me, now sit.” you listen, not knowing what else you were meant to do in this situation. The chair is soft, cushions letting you settle in comfortably.
“Everything is so pink.” you mutter, gesturing to the mirror frames and pole, every surface some variation of the same color.
“Sort of the point, yeah? To set the mood.” he smirks, trailing his hands up his waist, letting his nails graze against his skin, mimicking the same thing you do to him.
“Mood for what?”
“You’ll see, be patient.” you roll your eyes at his words, the palms of your hands rubbing against the soft pillow of your chair.
“That's rich.”
“Please, for me?” He sounds so sweet, like he was asking you to bring him a glass of water, not to stay still while he touched himself in front of you.
“We both know I can't deny you.”
“How true.” he sucks in a deep breath, throwing his head back as he holds eye contact.
“Watch.”
“What do I-?” you stutter over your words, your heart beating rapidly against your chest as he feels himself up, fingers ghosting over his tattoos.
“Me, keep your eyes on me.”
He turns his attention back to the pole next to him, strutting around it as the music from the dancefloor dictates his movements, his back pressed to the cool metal. Matty parts his lips as he slides down it, running a hand over his chest performatively, watching your every reaction.
Your breathing becomes more shallow as he moves, thousands of fantasies running through your mind. He knows the effect he has on you, everything he does is purely to rile you up, make you lose your composure.
“You’re mad, this is-” he cuts you off with a sly smile.
“Incredibly hot? I’d rather you enjoy the show than talk over it.” you scrunch up your face at the implication that this was a performance, even if you did expect nothing less from Matty.
“Show?”
He runs a hand through his slightly messed up hair, showing off his neck as you stare at him, biting your lip between your teeth to keep from embarrassing yourself.
“I hate you.” you mumble as the music changes, some hip-hop song coming on. The faint cheers of the people outside are barely audible, but it serves to remind of just where you were. The guys were still at the table, most likely speculating the reason as to why the two of you have been missing that long, Ross surely already making crude comments that neither Hann nor George wanted to think about.
“You won't if you just wait.” you grip the edge of your seat, blushing profusely as he struts over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck. His breath is hot against your neck, leaning over you as he settles into your lap. You finally clock it.
“Stay still.” he ‘orders’, attempting to mimic the way you speak to him when he doesn't listen.
“Are you giving me a lap dance?” he frowns at you, shaking his head in disappointment. A chuckle escapes you as the reality of the situation dawns on you.
“No need to define it darling, let it be abstract.” of course he’d say something like that, try to salvage the ‘artistic’ affair, failing miserably.
“You’re giving me a fucking lapdance, christ.” it's genuinely amusing. Your heart swells up at the thought of all the effort that went into this. Paying off the dancer with god only knows how much money, turning you on at the table just enough so you’d follow him, and probably even setting up the lighting in the room himself.
“You're such a bore, let me have my fun.” he kisses you, giggling into your mouth. His lips are warm against yours, your lip gloss rubbing off on him. “Oh, I will.” you promise, letting your hands fall limp as he grips your shoulders, rocking his hips back and forth. His movements are exact, practiced even as he grinds down onto you before lifting his body back up, bringing his hip tattoo up to eye level.
You don't think, mind clouded with desire and want. His shirt had ridden up a bit, and your rough tongue drags across the inked skin, warm against it as he shudders, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the sensation.
“No touching the dancers” he tuts, coming back down on top of you.
“I’m exempt from that rule.” you say, your voice surprisingly steady despite the white hot heat pooling between your legs.
“According to whom?”
“You.”
You let your hands settle onto his waist, gripping him so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next day.
“Fuckk, yeah okay,” he groans, the pressure on the front of his jeans increasing as all the blood in his head rushes south, his mind hazy.
“C’mon baby, finish your little performance.”
He moves to get off, smirking as you let him. You can see indents in his skin where you grabbed him, the sight making your breath hitch. He circles around you like a predator does his prey, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
His hands trail up your chest, fingers grazing over your exposed collarbones. Your skin flushes under his touch and you let out a soft moan at the feeling, earning a proud smile from Matty.
“You’re so gorgeous. I have to force myself to not get hard whenever you look at me.” his voice is sultry against your ear, making goosebumps bloom on the skin of your neck.
“Oh, way to exaggerate.” you snigger, not quite believing him.
“Honest truth.” he swears, instinctively doing the ‘scouts honor’ sign with his hand.
You snort, your little giggling fit interrupted by his mouth trailing sickly sweet kisses up your neck and to your jaw.
It doesn't take him long to make his way back around, your heart skipping a beat when he comes back into view. His chest is glistening with sweat, the warm temperature of the room clearly getting to him. Most notably, you notice the front of his jeans is unbuttoned and unzipped, flaring out on both sides, revealing almost the entirety of the silky, purple panties he had chosen to wear.
He relishes in your reaction, the attention making his ego grow exponentially as he moves back into your lap. Your hands trail up his chest, doing your best to not immediately pay attention to the underwear. You can't resist, though.
“These are new.” you toy with the thin straps, silk reflecting the colored light beautifully. You can see a note of pride ripple through him as you admire the material, grazing his cock through it.
“Got them just for you, you like?” The question is so obviously rhetorical. Of course you like, no, love them.
“So much.” your words are laced with love, soft and appreciative of all the effort he puts into getting you off, fulfilling your fantasy.
The way he looks at you is sinful, thoughts dancing behind his eyes visible as he stares, waiting for your next move.
He lets out a soft groan when you push him down into your thigh, biting his lip at you provocatively. “You're hard.” you smile as you say the words, his gaze softening when he sees the blissed out look at your face, eyes raking over his body. Even (almost) fully clothed, he was absolutely beautiful.
“See? Wasn't lying.” he presses a kiss behind your left ear, gently moving your hair out of the way. It’s loving, so honest.
“You sure it's not because of the mirror behind me?” you still cant help but tease him, gesturing to the giant mirror your back was facing. He blushes in response, stealing a glance at his reflection.
“You’re so cruel! I’ll just stop then, seeing as all you see me as is some egotistical deviant.” he threatens, crossing his arms over his chest in retaliation. You bring a hand up to cup his face, stroking his cheek softly, almost patronizing. Your mind swims with the power you have over him.
“You wont stop, you couldn't if you tried.” For the first time that evening, you call his bluff, the way he reacts to you exquisite as his lips part, no words coming out. Silence fills the room, even the music on the other side of the door seeming to die down. How long have the two of you been here?
“Am i right?” you question, not letting him off the hook like you usually would.
“..yeah–” his words are small, and you know you have him right where you want him. The lightest, slightest touch could send him hurtling over the edge, his hips rutting desperately into your hand as you palm him through his underwear.
“So pretty for me, doing all of this. Thank you baby.” you whisper into his ear as he gasps under your touch. It's so incredibly intimate that you can't help but drop your facade for a few seconds, kissing him sweetly, his lips moving against yours with desperation.
“Anything for you.”
“Anything?”
“Mhm.”
You take his cock out of the confines of his underwear, a sigh of relief falling from his parted lips as your fingers ghost over the tip, teasing him.
“Just stay still, let me make you feel good.” you murmur, feeling him up under his shirt, your nails digging into the skin of his back. He shifts on top of you, his body yearning for your touch.
“Please.”
You reach down to wrap your manicured fingers around his cock, the sight of the pretty colors of your nails around him making his eyes roll back in his head, his mind spinning with all sorts of possibilities, mostly focused on not finishing right in that moment.
Tugging lazily on his cock, you drag your fingers from the base to the tip, a satisfying whimper spilling from Matty’s lips, the sound spreading through your entire body. His back arches against you and the kiss he presses against your mouth tastes like the cigarettes he chainsmoked on the way to the club, mixing deliciously with the hint of alcohol on his breath.
“Let go for me, feel it.”
He trembles, the noise he lets out is desperate, filthy, shooting straight to your core. Everything is heightened. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he leans forward into you, chest pressing against yours as you run your fist up and down his cock, small whimpers of pleasure spurring you on.
“Fuckk, that feels so good–”
Matty’s words are choked, his effort to hold back a bit obvious. He’s hungry, wanting, evident in the way he ruts into your hand, his fingers digging into the skin of your shoulders, the sharp pain making you sigh, pleased.
“Be nice and loud for me, let me hear you.” you coo into his ear, your free hand dragging up his back under his shirt, the mesh bunching up. “So good to me, treat me so well, god– shit.”
He twitches as you dig your thumb into his slit, a shiver spreading through his body
The way he’s not even undressed is obscene, the fabric of his jeans gathering under his hips as he’s perched on top of you, feet planted firmly on the floor for leverage. You watch him, engrossed in pleasure, completely blissed out expression on his face. His head is thrown back, exposing his pale neck, faded hickeys and marks still visible from your last encounter.
“You're staring” he breathes, your eyes snapping up to meet him. A filthy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, your focus on him and only him. His hair falls over his face, obscuring it slightly, much to your disdain.
“You're giving me reason to” you brush curls out of his face as your movements still, letting him speak properly, uninterrupted.
“Yeah, I want you to look at me.”
You smile lovingly, cocking your head slightly to the left as you tease him, one of your fingers twirling his hair.
“Gets you off, my attention?” he doesn't even try to deny it, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere.
“Mhm-m” he nods, panting. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, silently begging you to continue.
His hips stutter as you grip his cock tighter, your other hand stroking his face sweetly as you stare into each other's eyes, his face flush as pornographic moans spill from his lips. His back arches again, your bodies pressed against each other as your hand snakes between the two of you.
“F-fuck, i’m so close, please let me cum, please.” His voice is high-pitched and whiny, tears threatening to spill at the overwhelming pleasure.
“You beg so nicely, let me hear you baby.” you whisper words of encouragement as his hips buck up into your hand involuntarily, every ounce of self control in him dissipating.
“I need it so bad, please i've been so good for you.”
He hiccups in a way that almost makes you feel bad, his desperation so obvious. You speed up a bit, just a bit, giving him that sweet, sweet relief he’s been begging for for god knows how long now.
“P-please, oh fuck, yesyesyes fuck.” precum bubbles at the tip of his cock, and you smear it down, coating him in his own arousal. It's unbelievably hot, his entire body twitching at the sight of your fingers on his cock, a sight he desperately tries to commit to memory.
“You’re leaking all over my hand darling, so filthy.” he whines into your neck, and you lick across his jaw, making him shiver
“Make a mess, c’mon, come for me.” an animalistic groan fills your ears as he rapidly approaches his orgasm, writhing under your touch.
“Y-yeah– fuck thats so good, your hand feels so good, fucking made for me.”
Matty’s possessive nature made your head spin with lust, his eyeliner smudging down his face as he stares into your eyes with such an intensity it felt like he was going to consume you.
His skin glows under the soft pink lighting, making him seem ethereal, like a true angel. His noises are like music to your ears as he spills into your hand, spurts of cum coating your bare stomach, barely missing your (quite expensive) cropped shirt. Matty kisses you immediately after, hands threading through your hair as he drinks you in, stealing your breath straight from your lungs.
Wordlessly, one of his hands moves down, gathering the remnants of his orgasm onto two fingers, tapping your mouth with the other. You indulge him, parting your lips to let him push his digits past them, the salty taste of him taking over your senses. His pupils are completely blown out in desire, not able to process what was happening in front of him, a loopy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart swell up with love
“Perfect.” he mumbles as you lick his fingers clean, smiling mischievously at his dazed gaze. Matty pulls you in, holding you close, desperate to not let go.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Where were you two?” Ross’s voice is accusatory as the two of you finally return to the booth, the dancer from before having already left. A faint blush spreads onto your cheeks as the memories of not 20 minutes go flash through your mind. Hann doesn't help your situation at all.
“Probably shagging, just look at him.” your head turns, seeing Matty’s blissed out expression, a content smile replacing his usual nasty grin. You elbow him in the ribs, a silent plea to say something, but he promptly ignores your silent begging.
“Shut up you dickhead, you don't know shit.”
George points at Matty, now grinning wildly, reminiscing about the events of tonight. He’s oddly calm, which would be concerning if it wasn't for the monstrous case of post-sex hair he currently had
“Jesus, what did you even do to him?” George is taking the absolute piss out of you, and for good enough reason.
“I don't kiss and tell.” you attempt to change the conversation topic as you settle back into the booth, commenting on the pint glasses. You're ignored in favor of laughing at you further while matty remains completely unbothered, the glow he emitted so fucking obvious it hurt.
“Well he sure does, I've heard much more than necessary.” Ross sniggers, pulling a face at the not-so-distant memory of Matty’s sex bonfire-storytelling session that had happened a few weeks prior (not at an actual bonfire, but on the floor of your living room, completely pissed while you were out with your girlfriends.)
“Did you at least wash your hands?” Hann asks, the question directed at Matty, whose hands were loosely wrapped around his nearly empty pint glass.
“Didn't have to.” he grins, waving his hands in Adam’s face proudly, like it was some sort of achievement.
“Oh fucking hell, too much info.” George groans, cupping his face in his hands at the mental image of what he thought had just happened. You laugh inwardly, the whole situation absurd. This was the furthest you had ever gotten in discussing anything relating to your relationship with Matty, and it honestly felt weird.
“I’m never touching you again mate, no fucking way.” Ross stated, a disgusted look on his face.
“Awwe Ross, how will you do without my touch?” You make grabby hands at him, climbing over George to drape yourself over the booth, touching his hair and face, Matty’s and Hann’s hysterical laughter spurring you on.
“GET OFF ME!!” he yells, clawing at you to push you away, absolutely mortified.
George, slightly more pissed than the rest of you, announces his mission to get the dancers number, swearing up and down that “She had this look in her eye, i’m so fucking serious.” he manages to stumble over his shoes about three times before finally standing up straight, brushing off any ‘dust’ (crisps) that clung to his raggedy band tee.
“Good luck mate, not that you need it.” Hann tries to be encouraging, knowing just as well as the rest of you how George got when he had a few too many pints. Terribly emotional and impulsive, there was no stopping him once he had his sights set on something, or in this case, someone.
“I definitely don't” he glares at you over his shoulder, strutting across the dance floor in direction of where he’d last seen her.
As he walks away, Ross sniggers.
“He definitely does.” and you can't help but giggle along as he trips over a stray stair, falling right onto his face. Hann goes to help him up, ignoring your collective jeers to “Stop ruining his chances at true love!”
With an ice pack pressed to his face, George can only roll his eyes at the various comments for the rest of the night, despite it being his birthday.
#good morning guys#its actually seven pm at night it just seemed fitting#the 1975#matty healy#george daniel#ross macdonald#adam hann#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#matty healy x reader#matty healy fluff#truman black#matty the 1975#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#the 1975 fanfiction#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
˚☽˚｡⋆ 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.”
#bsd x reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x reader#bsd x you#dazai osamu x reader#osamu dazai x you#dazai x you#dazai x y/n#dazai osamu x y/n#bsd x y/n#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you#dazai imagines#osamu dazai imagines#dazai osamu x you#dazai x fem reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#pm!dazai#dazai fluff#dazai angst#bsd imagines#bsd fanfic#rylie writes ₊˚🎧#my love osamu ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
*sighs in loser teen skk brainrot*
#skk#soukoku#loser#they have my heart#dazai#chuuya#dazai x chuuya#fluff#15 dazai#15 chuuya#15 skk#15 soukoku#pm dazai#chuuya nakahara#dazai osamu#bsd#bungou stray dogs
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
every dead-end street
bungo stray dogs x scarlet witch! reader
masterlist of the series
╰➤ CW(s): spoilers for bsd, slight hurt/angst, fluff ending
╰➤ PAIRING(s): dazai osamu
╰➤ SYNOPSIS: every dead-end street led you straight to him, or in which you, the scarlet witch of the port mafia, fall in love with dazai osamu despite everything.
╰➤ SONG SUGGESTION(s): all of the girls you loved before
since then, nothing has changed for you. in fact you always found yourself at a dead-end street.
even if your position as the harbinger of chaos and the scarlet witch of the port mafia, together with your talents and gifts have shaped you into who you are.
all you could see was darkness, pitch black, a bitter ending, but only until you met someone with whom you could share that darkness.
dazai osamu—the demon prodigy and the port mafia's youngest executive, having already held such a position at such a young age.
a young boy who has veiled himself in darkness, living a life of death and carnage, similar to how you have lived your life since then, but his blood was thicker and deeper, fully black, whereas yours was still red.
you've always known about him because of the prestigious rank he holds, which is far greater than yours, and the whispers and gossip about him. you weren't deaf or blind.
mori constantly talked about him whenever he could, and given your ability to see into people's thoughts and read minds, you had long seen through that mask of his; of how much more of a demon he is than a human, and of how little he cared about life and morality.
you were well aware of how twisted and cruel dazai was, as well as the innumerable hearts and bones he had broken with sadistic scrutiny.
and yet, you just found it odd how someone like dazai appears to be none of those things at all whenever he came to visit you in your little office, which was either to whine and complain to you about his partner, nakahara chuuya, or mori.
"here again for the third time today?"
you furrowed your brow, looking up from the materials you were reading as you hover in mid-air, your red psionics raising you along with some papers in the air, "you do realize i'm busy, right?"
"of course i'm here again, and i know that! that hat rack is annoying!" dazai grumbled childishly with folded arms and a pout, "are you sure you can't hex him just a little bit with those wiggly-woos of yours, [name]-chan?"
"no," you replied, now focusing on the documents you had with you as well as some other data and no longer gazing at dazai, "you know damn well my ability isn't for fun."
"not even if i give you my black card?" dazai smirked evilly as he waved his card, "don't you want to see the chibi suffer as much as i do?"
you twitched your fingers, taking the black card he was holding out to you with your red psionics, to which dazai's face brightened up, only for it to scrunch up as he let out a little "ow!" when you flicked the black card to his face along with a crumpled up paper.
given dazai's reputation, which you were aware of, you just ignored him. you merely stayed kind yet also aloof with him, which was difficult given how he kept coming back to you again and again, especially late at night, and often he would stay.
"do you even sleep at all?" asked the boy dressed in black and bandages as he entered your place this time, which was not far from your office in the headquarters, to find you still working on something despite the fact that it was late.
"if i was, then i would be asleep right now, genius," you groaned as you shook your head and interlaced your fingers, tugging at his hair with your red psionics.
"ow! you're such a meanie, [name]-chan!" dazai grumbled as he massaged his hair, "and here i was with drinks for two. you know, sometimes i wish i could nullify your "wiggly-woos" just because."
"quit whining and just sit down," you chuckled as you patted the empty seat on your sofa next to you, which he softly smiled at and sat down as he showed you the plastic bag of ice cold beers and food he had.
you two would then drink, eat, and talk about whatever came to mind, whether it was about your assignments, random thoughts on things like stars and plants, dazai's rants and complaints about his partner, chuuya, and his subordinates being idiots, and his failed attempts to get with other girls.
but then, dazai would already be gone when you woke up in the morning, may it be when you're on the sofa or in your own bed.
and eventually, dazai did stop coming back to you at the age of eighteen, and it was fairly literally speaking, given how he left the port mafia some time after sakaguchi ango's defection and the death of oda sakunosuke.
another dead-end street for you again.
you didn't care, and you wished you didn't, especially when you see him resurface in public as a member of the armed detective agency, not as the demon prodigy or a port mafia executive.
it was very amusing to say the least how quickly dazai seemed to turn over a new leaf, but in reality, you know you can do the same because you can alter reality if you so desire given your talent.
but, unlike dazai, you chose to remain in the midst of the slaughter, death, and the deepest depths of your heart, while he basked in the light that he seemed to have discovered and was now chasing following those happenings two years ago.
indeed, seeing dazai interact with his colleagues and be a lot more comedic and now intent on finding a lover to do an attempt with, you weren't exactly surprised given the amount of women he had but has left crying before, hence chuuya's previous comment of him being an enemy of women, even way back when he was still in the port mafia.
but then again, you didn't care, and shouldn't.
all those times dazai would stay late at night with you in your office, just talking to you about whatever, occasionally with the flirting and poking fun of your wiggly-woos, or whenever you were assigned together by mori, or even the times when you snuck out together from the mafia, holding hands, and killing time like the teenagers you guys were supposed to he.
you just couldn’t love dazai even if your heart said otherwise and hoped that he could have asked you to come with him that day before he left, and if he really did love you, he would have come back for you too, right?
you haven't had a drink in ginza, tokyo in over two years. you weren't a big drinker, but tonight felt like a good time. as you went down the flight of steps, you were greeted by a quiet, inconspicuous badger's nest packed with a counter, stools, empty bottles stacked up against the wall, taciturn regulars, and a bartender wearing a scarlet vest.
"ah, [surname]-sama. it's been a while. will you have the usual?" the bartender inquired as you sat down on one of the stools.
"i told you, just [name] would be fine," you chuckled quietly, shaking your head as your gaze flitted to the bartender, "but yes, the usual, please."
"very well, [name]-san."
you observed the bartender nod and make your drink. you sighed to yourself as you removed your red coat and bundled it nicely on your lap, clasping your fists together and resting your chin on your knuckles with your elbows placed on the bar table.
"looks like you never changed your taste for drinks at all," a familiar voice said, followed by the clinking of ice against glass as the seat beside you was occupied.
you didn't dare turn your head but a small smile tugged on your lips, "are you waiting for someone?"
he is silent for a moment before a smile pulls on his lips, a smile that didn't appear to change, just like your drink preferences didn't.
"yeah, you."
a surprised expression writes across your face, but it immediately fades. after a brief moment of chewing your bottom lip, you finally turned your head and stared at dazai osamu for what seemed like an eternity.
there he was again, there in front of you, dressed in a long brown coat instead of black, his black tie replaced with a bolo tie, and the rest of his garments a much lighter brown color, similar to oda sakunosuke.
dazai was no longer eighteen just like you, much taller than you, and had already lost the bandages and dark film over his eyes, though it was still there if you looked and dug deep enough with your ability as the scarlet witch.
"why?" you questioned, tilting your head and staring deeply into his eyes.
"because i want you to leave the mafia," dazai explained almost immediately before downing his beer, "you don't belong there."
"of course, i don't," you said, a little amused by his statements, "i know that very well."
"so, why stay there?" dazai asked, still maintaining eye-contact with you as the bartender placed down your drink in front of him.
"because i have nowhere to go, and besides, it's for the better," you stated as you stared down at your cocktail with a small sigh.
"but you can change that," dazai muttered.
"you need something from me, don't you?" you shook your head, a faint crimson glow apparent in your [color] eyes as you sipped your drink, "name it already. you know i don't like beating around the bush, dazai."
"i do need something from you," dazai said in a matter of factly manner, "i need you."
"how many women have you asked that question with, dazai?" you laughed, shaking your head, "i bet all of the girls you loved before are laughing."
"i'm not asking to die with you. i want to be with you, [surname] [name]."
"but why only now? what took you so long?"
"well, i'm asking now aren't i?"
following that exchange, there was silence between the two of you. you both held your breath while staring at each other, peering into each other's souls.
"i love you, and, yes, i know. i should have asked you to run away with me way back then," dazai said in a softer tone now, his hand slowly reaching yours, him giving it a squeeze when you don't pull it back, "and you're wrong. you're the only one i've ever loved like this at all and came back to. this, i swear upon my life."
you knew you and dazai were parallel lines, with the same past, and perhaps the stars did align tonight as they intertwined.
love. it's a foreign word to you.
with losing people being something that has always been a part of you like a curse, your fate of never knowing love was sealed the moment you lost your parents to a bombing, followed by your twin brother, and it was a curse you welcomed with open arms—a dead-street that you always seem to find yourself going into.
so you basked in the darkness of the lack of love, loneliness, blood, and death that has surrounded and been a part of you since you were a child, even more so when the port mafia took you in, particularly mori ougai given your ability to manipulate reality and psionic energy—a weapon he could harness for the port mafia's own good and cause chaos and destruction upon its enemies.
but this time, everything was different.
all you could hear and see in dazai's mind were memories he had of you, all of it from his perspective, from the moment he met you through the times you spent together before he left, and lastly, you being with him now, right to this minute.
it was right there; love, and every dead-end street led him straight to you, just as it had done for you.
you closed your eyes after witnessing everything, reliving it all with the power you were cursed and graced with, and sighed, a smile tugging on your lips, "i would have said yes if you had just asked me, dazai."
i love you more. that's what it actually was in between those lines you uttered, and catching that on, dazai's brown eyes twinkled with hope.
"i'm sorry to have kept you waiting, my love," he said softly with an even more tender and endearing smile, "but i'm here now, here to stay and get you out of there, okay?"
[ author's notes ! this wasn't a request but something that i wrote while listening to taylor swift's lover album in the middle of the night, particularly all of the girls you loved before, along with cruel summer and afterglow.
tbh, i think my writing for this one is kinda messy ngl, but hopefully it's okay-ish, because i kinda didn't know exactly what i was going for, but lmk what ya'll think (_ _ ") ... !!! ]
[ join my taglist, perhaps ? @atomi-mi @anonymousewrites @magpiemissy @anqelically @96jnie @lovesick-fairy @soleelia @celestair @irethepotato @idunnomynamesince2005 @nianre @sigmasdarling @lenasvoid @achlysyo @youdidntseemehere21 ]
#dazai x reader#bsd x reader#dazai osamu x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd imagines#bsd scenarios#bsd oneshot#bsd dazai#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#dazai osamu x y/n#dazai osamu x you#dazai x you#dazai x y/n#port mafia dazai#pm dazai#dazai fluff#dazai angst
432 notes
·
View notes
Text
chapter one : a curious encounter
➪ pairing : before 14 ! osamu dazai x before 14 ! reader
➪ sypnosis : you stopped him from killing himself…for odd and strange reasons
➪ warnings : mentions of suicide and hanging
➪ other notes : i feel like this is so bad but the concept in my head was so good… new a / n : this is now the first chapter to a fic i’m writing, stay in tune
➪ prologue | chapter one
“what are you doing ?” osamu dazai turned around in shock to see you, holding paper grocery bags. “what do you think i’m doing ?” he asked tying the rope tighter to the tree branch. “you’re hanging yourself ?” you calmly asked. “didn’t take a mathematician to figure that out,” dazai said, rolling his eyes, annoyed that someone interrupted him.
you two had never met so why did you suddenly go up to him ? “i can’t let you do that,” you said dropping the grocery bags on the grass. “what, are you gonna give me a speech on why i shouldn’t kill myself ?” dazai sighed. “i could care less about you,” you said walking closer. “then why do you care,” he furrowed his eyebrows. you then pointed to the end of the tree branch. it was a fucking bird’s nest.
dazai scoffed, “and that’s supposed to stop me ?” “not really but i’ll stop you myself, i won’t allow you to break that tree branch and disrupt their home,” you said balling up your fists. “fine then i’ll go hang myself elsewhere,” he said, proceeding to untie the rope. “every tree in this area has two or three bird nests as well as beehives,” you said looking at him.
what was a kid like you even doing out here ? dazai asked himself, you looked well groomed, with a plaid t shirt and shorts, but no shoes. no shoes..? did you seriously take off your shoes just to walk on the grass ? those paper grocery bags started to make sense. you went out of your way to ensure that he wouldn’t knock down the bird’s nest. “fine you win, happy ?” dazai asked, scowling, gripping the rope.
you smiled. “thank you, i appreciate your understanding,” you suddenly picked up your bags again, still barefoot, walking carefully back to the road. “wait,” dazai stopped you. “just, who are you,” he asked. “y/n, y/n l/n” you responded. “i’m -” “osamu dazai, i know,” you casually said, “the doctor has treated you,” he was confused. who was ‘the doctor’ ?
before he could say anything, you got on the road and put on your shoes, on your way to wherever you were going. you seemed to know him, but he didn’t know you. he didn’t even remember being treated by any type of doctor, he didn’t have the money. this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, he’d make sure of that.
#written by terra#sincerely terra#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bsd x reader#bsd manga#bsd manga spoilers#engraved with tenderness#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x reader#port mafia dazai x reader#bsd dazai#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu#dazai fluff#pm! dazai x reader#osamu dazai angst#bungou stray dogs dazai
511 notes
·
View notes
Text
dazai and kunikida (and chuuya too tbh) being friends when theyre all teenagers except kunikida is still trying to be a math teacher and then quitting to join the ada and dazai and chuuya are still in the mafia
they meet because chuuya and dazai r doing something dumb cuz of some mission theyre on and kunikida sees them and scolds them and theyre genuinely too baffled to reply and they keep on meeting like that
kunikida scolding 15-16 yrs old emo sad scary cat demon prodigy dazai for walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk or something is very funny to me
somehow it turns into kunikida scolding them for misbehaving and not taking care of themselves so
kunichuuzai having lunch dates hehe
anyway idk the image is funny
i dont think kunikida would get scared by emo dazai i think he’d just start his my ideal hardworking dazai notebook earlier
and also he’d be like ‘lemme fix this’ @ dazai if that makes sense
eventually they sit him down and have to reveal that theyre in the mafia and he gets rlly angry thinking that theyre excusing theyre behavior of not looking both ways before crossing the road; accidentally littering (they were trying to shoot but missed), walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk, not showering (dazai), wearing too much cologne (chuuya), etc
#kunichuuzai#kunikida headcanons#kunikida hcs#bungou stray dogs kunikida#kunikida fluff#bsd kunikida#kunikida x chuuya#kunikida x dazai#kunichuu#kunikidazai#kunizai#pm dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai#Dazai Osamu#bsd dazai#bsd chuuya#chuuya headcanons#dazai and chuuya#bungou stray dogs chuuya#skk
397 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
xcurateur-blog
hold your breath
general-lych
Command & Control
black-beauty24
Black Beauty :)
sora-mintchocolate-blog
Untitled
svenson777
SVENSON777