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osarina · 7 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS

FEATURING: dazai osamu

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eye twitches in irritation.

You pull the trigger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pull the trigger again.

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

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

You just tried to-

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

You just tried to kill Dazai.

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

You almost killed Dazai.

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

You would have killed Dazai if not for sheer luck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He should know better.

He does know better.

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

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

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

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

That’s all.

That is not all.

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

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

You don’t know why you’re still here.

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

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

But you won’t.

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

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

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

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

What the hell are you doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You… understand, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dazai-”

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The bar?

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

Dazai thinks he might rather die.

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

Ouch.

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

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

The safehouse in Sakae?

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

How did he get here?

He needs another drink desperately.

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

What?

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

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

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

Just enough to see you.

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

“Will you be here in the morning?”

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

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

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

The safe house is empty.

You’re nowhere to be found.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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hopelessdazai · 8 months ago

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✿ 》 Will you talk to me again?

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

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; dazai x gn!reader, WC ; 784

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

To my dearest ______ .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sincerely, your osamu.

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j1yasworld · 17 days ago

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06:53 pm — dazai ★. reblogs are very appreciated <3

cw: angst !! major character death, yeah it's not the best i've written, i'm feeling kinda uninspired lately tbh

the moment dazai laid his eyes on your limp and lifeless body, his legs gave out.

the pang in his chest suddenly felt like a thousand knives piercing his heart, as the tears welled up in his eyes and clouded his vision.

but dazai did not fall to his knees, no. he ran the short distance separating you in a flash and quickly held your cold body against his, resting his cheek on yours and yelling your name, so desperately, as if it could being you back to life.

his tears dripped on your face, on your peaceful expression, as if you were telling him from somewhere not to be sad.

he caressed your cheek with his hand, still wailing like a newborn. his throat burned from how much he'd been yelling and shouting, like a beast in agony.

and then, he laughed.

in the darkness of that cold and lonely night, dazai laughed at his own misery and impotence. because he did what he'd promised to never do. he hurt you and caused you to suffer, leading you to your death.

his mind so cruelly brought back a memory he shared with you, one in which he was the happies he'd ever been.

the two of you laid down, side by side.

your gaze expressed the most pure love, your eyes gleamed with softness and affection and your lips were pulled in a sweet smile.

dazai, who was lying next to you, looked at you so affectionately as you examined your hand raised above you.

he caught the glimpse of the ring he'd given you hours before, with a promise to protect you, take care of you and be yours for the rest of your lives.

he felt lucky and blessed, being able to love you and be recipeocated. he thought he'd finally found his person, the one who is able to erease his sorrows with just a glance.

but as dazai's conscience almost melted in the memory, the feeling of your lifeless body brought him back to present.

oh, what a bitter feeling.

he drew in a long breath, the cold causing sharp pain to his lungs, and placed a kiss to each of your closed eyelids, then a last one to your forehead.

“i'll avenge you, my sweet [name]”

#★. writing #bsd #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs angst #dazai x reader #dazai osamu fanfic #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bsd x you #bsd x y/n

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osachiyo · 9 months ago

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"i'm so sick and tired of you always downplaying everything!"

"i fucking hate you right now, dazai"

the sentences ran through dazai's mind repeatedly, a painfully numb feeling he hasn't felt in a while blossomed in his chest. he almost didn't notice the deafening sound of glass shattering ringing through his apartment, shards of glass breaking through the bandaged skin of his hand.

he couldn't bring himself to care about the blood dripping on the carpet from between his digits — he felt so empty, so damn guilty ever since you slammed the front door shut without saying a word to him. were you really going to leave him?

the thought alone made dazai clench his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms, resulting in more blood spilling out of the gashes in his right hand, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

a pang of.. something he couldn't distinguish hit his chest once he remembered your tear stricken face — eyes red from frustration and hurt.

you were for sure leaving him.

youwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghim —

his eyes widened when he heard the front door click open — "hey.. i'm ba —!"

you gasped once you saw dazai standing in middle of your living room, blood and broken glass staining the once pristine carpet. "osamu what the fu—" you were enveloped in a warm embrace before you could even finish your sentence — "please, fuck — don't leave."

your boyfriend's voice was uncharacteristically shaky, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as if it was his oxygen.

"babe i.. i just went to get some ice-cream to cool us both off," you lifted the bag of ice-cream in your hands, showing it to dazai. he blinked once, twice, before his shoulders slumped in relief — "oh thank god."

"thought you were leaving for real," he breathed, kissing your cheek gently.

"listen, dazai. i would never leave you like that �� i love you, for god's sake!" you reassured him, wrapping your arms around his neck after setting the bag aside. "..even though you were being an ass.."

"i'm so sorry, baby — shit, i promise i'll do better," dazai pleaded, smoothing out the slight furrow between your brows, "say what — i'll take the day off tomorrow so we can go on a date, 'kay? wherever you want."

"hmmm.. i'll think about forgiving you. but first, let's get you patched up. how'd you even get yourself hurt like this?!"

that's how it always was with dazai — one moment he'd have you fuming and crying tears of frustration, but then he'd have you peppering his face in kisses as you two exchanged sweet words. you knew your relationship wasn't the healthiest — but you wouldn't change it for the world.

note. i'm so bad at writing angst, sorry if this sucked 😭

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shall-we-die · 4 months ago

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╔‌‌‌‌•°🍃༄•°══════════•⊰•°༄༚

{Urge}

How badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?

╞•⊰❖⊱•═══•༻🍀༺•═══•⊰❖⊱•╡

↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Bungo stray dogs}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {Angst}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰ ────┈┈{0070}┈─╮

╭──────┈┈┈��┈───────╯

╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

╚•°🍃༄•°══════════•⊰•°༄༚‌‌‌

↬|Atsushi|

If his s/o is separated from him, Atsushi will likely miss them deeply and feel an intense longing to see them again.

He may constantly think about them and worry about their safety, as well as wonder how they are doing.

He may have difficulty concentrating on his work or hobbies, as his mind is preoccupied with thoughts of them.

He may also have difficulty sleeping at night, as he misses having them nearby to comfort him. Overall, Atsushi will feel a deep sense of loneliness and emptiness when they are apart.

Atsushi’s feelings of missing his s/o can be described as intense and overwhelming. He feels a sense of longing and emptiness when they are apart, and his thoughts are constantly preoccupied with them.

He may have difficulty concentrating on anything else, as his mind is consumed by thoughts of their safety and well-being.

He may also experience a sense of worry and anxiety about not knowing when he will see them again, and this can lead to feelings of helplessness and frustration.

Overall, his feelings can be described as profoundly emotional and all-consuming.

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↬|Dazai|

He feels like a part of him is missing, a void. He feels like there's something important missing in his life.

He can't really function properly without you, he can't sleep well, he's distracted all the time and he's snapping even more to his subordinates. He is desperate to have you back in his arms.

As every day passed without you Dazai only grows more and more frustrated, he tried to distract himself from you by working, hanging out with oda's grave, sleeping or other things but nothing works.

He feels like a lost puppy without you, he can't really focus on anything. His mind drifts to you more often than usual, he has trouble focusing on his plans and he sometimes finds himself staring into the space thinking about you.

He craves for your presence, the feeling of your being next to him. He wants to hear your voice, to touch your soft skin, to run his fingers through your hair, to kiss the back of your neck, to hold your hand. To see your smile.

He yearns for you, for your love, for the feeling of your body against his, he just wants to hold you close and never let go.

Dazai absolutely craves the presence of you more than anything in the world, he hates being separated from you.

And when you are apart, he's unable to focus on anything else, his mind is constantly thinking about you, worrying if you're safe, if you're happy, if you're missing him as much as he misses you.

The pain of loneliness and missing his lover becomes excruciating, to the point where he can't even sleep, as he keeps thinking about you, wishing for your return.

He'll go to any length to see you again.

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

↬|Akutagawa|

He'd probably not show any emotions about the fact that he can't have any contact or see his S/O.

He'd just bury it all deep inside but at night when he's laying wide awake he'd feel extremely lonely.

Whenever he's around other people he would sometimes catch himself thinking of his S/O and what he'd be doing if they were right next to him.

He probably can't get them out of his head, the thought of not being able to hold them or talk/see them always around.

He's frustrated, lonely, and sad, but he'd hide it all the time. The need to see them, to hold them, to see their smile and just to be near them fills up his mind a lot, it's hard to keep his thoughts away from them.

He probably also feels a bit jealous when he sees a couple being all lovey dovey, he probably just wishes it could be him and his s/o.

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↬|Chuuya|

Oh god. Chuuya would be absolutely heartbroken and miserable without his S/O. He literally wouldn't know what to do with himself without them.

He'd be a total mess at first, barely eating, not sleeping properly, refusing to do any work that didn't involve trying to get his S/O back, he'd be a complete shell of his usual self, only snapping out of it when he's in combat.

Chuuya wouldn't be able to function without his S/O; they’re like his source of comfort, like his entire world revolves around them, his whole existence is dependant on them.

He would be completely lost without them, his days would be endless nightmares and his nights would be sleeplessly tormenting.

He'd feel like drowning all the time, suffocating every single second that he can't be with them.

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↬|Tetchou|

Tetchou would want to see his s/o so badly. They’d be on his mind constantly.

He’d try to distract himself all he want, but the image of his s/o would stay and it would make his heart hurt in a way it never did before.

Everything about his s/o would be on his mind - their hair, their eyes, their smile...

Not having them there pained him, and he’d probably go far enough to drop almost anything to try and see them again.

He feels empty and lost without his s/o. It feels as if a big part of him is suddenly gone and he feels wrong, and he hates the feeling. It feels as if he won’t be complete again until his s/o is back, and it scares him how much of a hold his s/o has on him.

Even so, he doesn’t want to lose them again, and will do almost anything to make sure that will never happen.

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↬|Jouno|

After he and his s/o are separated, Jouno finds himself having a deep sense of longing and desperation to see them again.

He cannot focus on his duties or anything else in his life, his mind is solely focused on them.

He can't sleep at night, and his thoughts are constantly plagued by thoughts of his s/o.

He wants to hold them again or listen to their voice even just once, but because they're separated, he cannot do that. It's a constant torment to his emotional and mental state.

Jouno's feelings toward his s/o after they are separated are a mix of longing, desperation, and emotional torment.

These emotions plague him day and night, unable to focus on anything else. He cannot get any rest or sleep, and his thoughts are constantly filled with the need to see them again.

He craves their presence, and it's a constant struggle for him to cope with the fact that they're not within his reach. This loneliness eats away at him, but he still clings to any hope that they'll be reunited again.

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↬|Fyodor|

Would not be able to handle being separated from his S/O for far too long, since it would feel like a part of himself is gone.

Would find himself constantly wanting to see and be near his S/O, to feel their presence near him.

Would feel empty, missing and yearning for his S/O and would wish to be with them again.

Would be constantly worried about their S/O's safety, even if the S/O would be more than able to defend themselves in a fight.

Craves their presence and yearns for their touch Feels incredibly lonely and alone, as if a part of his life was suddenly ripped out from him.

Can't stop thinking about them, misses them terribly and can't stop himself from thinking "just a little more and I'll see them again." / "you know what? I'm the God. I don't need them! Right!...right?"

Can't stop himself from remembering all the moments he has spent with the person he loves, wanting to be with that person again and hold them in his arms.

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↬|Nikolai|

Nikolai would miss his s/o like hell. He would probably go insane after a small amount of time not seeing them or talking to them, and would be extremely clingy and desperate to get back to see or talk with his s/o after being separated from them for a while.

Nikolai would probably mope around a lot and do almost nothing without his s/o, his entire mood being reliant on them.

Nikolai doesn't deal with being alone very well. Nikolai's feelings about being separated from his s/o would be very intense.

He would feel incredibly lonely and miserable without them, like he's lost part of himself.

Nikolai would also feel very irritated and grumpy, lashing out at everyone around him.

Nikolai would be extremely clingy and desperate to see or talk to his s/o again, completely lost without them.

Nikolai would basically give anything to see or be able to talk to his s/o again even for a little while.

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↬|Sigma|

Sigma desperately longs for the day he can see his s/o again.

Every day he wakes up feeling a longing for them, a sense that a piece of his heart is missing.

He feels like he's drowning in a sea of anguish, and just to see their face, to touch their hand, would be a lifeline for him.

He is haunted by memories of them, of their voice, their touch, and it's like an endless torment, knowing that he might never see them again. Every moment spent apart is torture for him.

He feels like he can't breathe properly anymore without the. in his life. He can't focus, can't rest, each day feels endless and hopeless.

Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees a broken person staring back at him, someone who is lost without them, and it's like a stab to his heart, every single time.

He feels like he's a shell of his former self, and the only thing that could fix him, the only thing that could make him feel whole again, is then.

He's drowning in a sea of despair, and they're the only one who can save him.

||[🅄rge]||

━●━━━━━━────────

⇆ㅤㅤ◁🅃ㅤㅤ❚❚ㅤㅤ🅅▷ㅤㅤ↻

#𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎–[❣]#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs angst #bsd hcs #bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #akutagawa ryunosuke x reader #atsushi nakajima x reader #tetchou suehiro x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bsd sigma x reader

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the-sunflower-room · 1 year ago

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✧ to die by your side ✧

dazai x fem!reader

☆ genre: angst, hurt/comfort

☆ wc: 9.5k

☆ summary: dazai’s girlfriend is kidnapped by a revenge-seeking enemy and must count down the agonizing minutes to her death. dazai and the rest of the ada race to save her before time runs out.

☆ warnings: kidnapping, violence, language, mentions of blood/torture/drugging, dazai-typical suicide mentions, brief mentions of throwing up, self-loathing dazai, panic attacks, etc- overall just pretty angsty! slightly canon divergent with the way i wrote dazai’s ability. i also threw in some comfort at the end as a little treat <3

………………………………………………………………………………….

Pain. Blinding pain.

That was the first thing Y/N noticed as she slowly regained consciousness. Her skull felt like it was on fire, her temple throbbing and wrists aching. A heavy weight sat on her chest and made the simple act of breathing difficult. A faint but persistent beeping noise seemed amplified in her ringing ears, worsening her pounding headache while the heavy scent of blood in the air made her stomach churn.

What was going on?

Confusion persisted until her mind began to register the other noises in her surroundings.

A man’s voice she didn’t recognize.

The soft beep of a video camera starting to record.

Something about the agency.

Dazai’s name.

Her body broke into a cold sweat at the sudden mention of her boyfriend.

Realizing her eyelids were too heavy to even open, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened. The last thing she remembered was kissing Dazai goodnight outside of her apartment, then quietly getting ready for bed once he had left. What could have possibly happened between then and now? Whose voice was echoing around her? Why did her body feel so heavy, and why were her thoughts so incoherent? If she could just get up-

Oh.

Her wrists were bound behind her, the rest of her body anchored to the chair she was sat in by chains of steel. There was something large strapped to her abdomen emitting a beeping noise every few seconds.

Her heart nearly stopped beating in her chest as she slowly put together what was happening in her hazy mind.

“-Pay for your crimes by letting her die. This pretty little thing only has three hours left,” the gruff voice continued, sounding much clearer and much closer than before. Her panic increased tenfold as she realized the mystery man was directly behind her. Before she could fully prepare for it, a large hand suddenly grabbed a fistful of hair on her scalp and yanked her slumped head upwards. The pain forced her eyes open and she was greeted with a camera pointed at her, along with a room full of armed men. Her eyes slowly widened in terror and clarity as it all finally clicked in that moment, no matter how much she didn’t want to admit what was happening to her.

I’ve been kidnapped as a means to get back at the agency.

There’s a bomb strapped to me.

I have three hours to live.

The tears started then. Even though she could vaguely recognize that she was being recorded for the Agency’s viewing and it would only worry Dazai more if he saw her in so much distress, she couldn’t help her panic. No matter how strong she wanted to be for him, this was terrifying. Her life was suddenly on the line and she would die at the hands of these men if the agency couldn’t find her in time.

“Please,” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut and feeling pathetic as she let out a choked sob. Her voice cracked from disuse and she felt like she might hyperventilate. “Please, no. I don’t want to die.” The room filled with cruel laughter at her naive pleas, and she could only sink further into despair as the gravity of her situation became painfully evident. These were ruthless killers who were happy to see an innocent woman die for nothing more than the sake of revenge.

“Hear that, detectives? She’s begging for her life. What are you gonna do about it? The clock is ticking,” The man behind her sneered, grabbing her face in his calloused hand and squeezing it. She weakly attempted to yank her head away from his grasp and maintain her last shred of dignity. He was taunting them with her, the bastard.

Weaponizing their good nature and care for her. Trying to break them; trying to break her sweet Dazai.

Oh god- Dazai.

The more she thought about him, the more her tears flowed. Dazai, whose greatest fear was putting her in danger with his line of work. Dazai, who had lost so much more than a person should. Dazai, who loved and cared for her more than anyone she had ever known. The mere idea of him sitting at the agency headquarters, watching in horror while these unknown men teased him with her life, was too much to bear.

Through her cries of terror, Y/N could just barely overhear the man saying something else into the camera before ordering one of his subordinates to cut the footage. Dread filled the pit of her stomach as they turned their full attention on her and she realized she was truly alone with these psychopaths.

She had no way of knowing if the ADA was coming for her, or if they would be able to get to her in time. Hell, she didn’t even know if they would be able to diffuse the complicated bomb even if they did manage to reach her before it was set to detonate. She certainly didn’t want them to risk their own lives just to save her, even if the thought of dying in an explosion shook her to her core.

She felt her hope drain away with each new tick of the bomb, her body shaking with fear. Three hours was an awfully short time.

Please, Osamu.

My time is running out.

Dazai had never felt a rage quite like this before.

He knew that something was wrong the moment the agency had received a video from an untraceable source and Y/N hadn’t texted him about her day. That didn’t stop his heart from dropping clear to his stomach when he saw her on the monitor, chained up and bloody with a bomb on her chest.

No. Not her.

He avoided the nervous gazes of Atsushi and the rest of the agency members as he stared at her unconscious body on the screen, jaw clenched unimaginably tight and hands gripping the wood of the conference room table. The man standing in front of her was droning on about how Dazai had personally wronged his pathetic organization —something about putting a stop to their human trafficking network with the help of Kunikida— but he couldn’t bring himself to listen or even care.

He was attempting to keep his composure by focusing on the facts of the case. Namely, the extent of her injuries and her location.

Blood was dripping down the side of her face from her temple, some of it dried and caked in her hair. The bastards had likely hit her with some sort of blunt object to knock her out. His fury only grew at the thought of her being treated with such senseless violence. She still seemed dazed and confused as the man forced her awake to face the camera, a sure sign of a concussion or even drugging to further subdue her. She had a few more bruises and bloody cuts on her face, and he knew by the way the metal chains cut into her skin that they would cause serious irritation at the very least.

He couldn’t help but screw his eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath as her weak and desperate pleas reached his ears. The complete and utter terror in her voice as she begged her captors for mercy was nothing short of gut-wrenching to him. Even worse, the man was taunting Dazai with her pain. Smugly showing off her broken body like some sort of prize. She’s suffering because of you, a small voice in his head spat, making Dazai grit his teeth even more. No. Focus, you idiot. Focus on where they’re keeping her.

She looked to be trapped in some kind of metal room, potentially reinforced with anti-ability precautions to keep them from easily reaching her. The cell was dingy, dark, and silent, leading him to wonder if she was being kept somewhere underground. That would be a likely spot for these despicable cockroaches to hide. There were just over a dozen guards surrounding her, although they wouldn’t be an issue in the grand scheme of things; the ADA could certainly handle a few thugs with guns. What concerned him most was the bomb strapped to her chest.

There were plenty of geniuses among their ragtag team, but bombs were tricky. There could be dozens of triggers on it, or someone could detonate it remotely if anyone got too close to her. A single misstep or miscalculation could immediately cost Y/N’s life, and that was a risk Dazai certainly wasn’t willing to take.

He was furious at himself for letting this happen. He was so careful- always keeping tabs on her, steering her away from involvement in ADA antics, keeping an ear to the ground for trouble in the Yokohama underworld. He was constantly calculating and preparing for every outcome, always several steps ahead of his enemies with his dizzying plans. And yet, somehow, this measly organization he could hardly remember had managed to snatch his girlfriend out from under him with almost no trouble at all.

She was in mortal danger, and it was all his fault.

“Snap out of it, Dazai, I can hear your thoughts from all the way over here,” Kunikida piped up from across the room, his voice sympathetic but stern as he glared at his partner. “You need to keep your head on straight if we want to get her back.” He could tell just by reading Dazai’s expression how much inner turmoil the man was going through. How much he blamed himself for Y/N’s capture. But if they were going to rescue her before the three hours were up, there was no time for wallowing in self pity.

“Kunikida’s right,” Fukuzawa’s booming voice spoke, causing Dazai’s distant gaze to snap over to his boss in an instant. The fact that he was involved in the case at all revealed just how seriously the entire agency was taking her kidnapping. “Time is not on our side. We must be swift and rational if we are to have any hope of getting to Y/N and disabling the bomb in time.” Their words struck Dazai to his core. It was hard to remember that the other ADA members also cared deeply for his girlfriend, and they were willing to go so far as to put their lives at risk to help him get her back. Their unwavering support seemed to snap him out of his stupor and focus on the task at hand.

Get her back from those sorry motherfuckers.

“Right,” he nodded curtly, his expression suddenly devoid of all emotion as he turned to face the team with renewed focus and determination. “Ranpo-san, what’s the plan?”

The raven-haired detective, who had been quietly perched on the window sill and shadowed by the deep orange sunlight filtering into the room, suddenly jumped down from his seat and whipped out his pair of glasses in a flash. His trademark smirk spread across his face as he placed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, poised to activate his ability.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Fifteen minutes.

That’s what the little timer read—from what she could tell, anyway. Y/N’s heart felt like it would burst out of her chest. She was drenched in sweat from the overwhelming fear taking over her body, despite her cell being practically freezing. The men had left her alone a while ago, but not before roughing her up for good measure. She now sported a throbbing bruise under her eye and a few new cuts on her face and neck, but she had blocked all of the pain out. All she could feel was pure panic as the countdown to her impending doom grew shorter and shorter.

She had no idea if Dazai and the rest of the ADA were even close to figuring out where she was, and her hope was beginning to run out. How could they possibly find her and disarm the bomb in a mere fifteen minutes? It didn’t seem at all possible, no matter how skilled they were. A single tear ran down her cheek as the reality set in. She was really going to die.

Trying to find some form of comfort as the seconds ticked away and she neared what she assumed were her last moments, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and forced her mind to go somewhere else—anywhere else—to escape this hell.

Dazai’s soft laughter filled her ears.

It was a lazy Sunday morning- the couple’s favorite time to lay in bed for the whole day and forget their actual adult responsibilities. They were tangled up in fresh sheets, warm sunlight streaming through the windows as Dazai playfully teased her about her refusal to let him get up.

“Five more minutes!” Y/N grumbled sleepily, burying her head into the crook of Dazai’s neck and breathing in his fresh scent. He still smelled like the floral body wash he had used in the shower the night before; the same body wash she had bought him when he insisted he loved the way it smelled on her and needed some for himself. Catching traces of its scent on him always brought a smile to her face.

“You said that five minutes ago,” he chuckled, his voice still husky from sleep. His hand absentmindedly massaged her scalp as he held her tight to his chest. “You can hear my stomach practically begging for food. Are you trying to starve me, my love?” Y/N was seemingly unaffected by his dramatic ploy to escape her embrace. “Yes,” she answered simply, burrowing further into his t-shirt to hide her smile that would give away her crumbling resolve. Of course, there was no hiding anything from Dazai Osamu.

“I saw that!” He gasped, playfully poking at her face. “My Y/N does care about me, who would have thought!” She couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her lips at her boyfriend’s theatrics. He was always blowing things out of proportion, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t love it.

Daring to peek up at him with heavy eyelids, her eyes met gentle brown staring back at her with nothing but warmth and fondness. The lovesick smile plastered across his face sent butterflies rushing through her stomach and she suddenly felt shy. His eyes were so pretty. “If you get up, I’ll be so lonely without you,” she pouted, hands snaking around his waist as she gave him her best puppy dog eyes. She knew she was playing dirty by pulling the pity card, but she also couldn’t stand the thought of being away from his comforting embrace for even a moment.

Dazai heaved a sigh, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as his hand moved to her face and gently brushed some of her hair away from her eyes. “Well how could I ever say no to that? I would rather starve than see my belladonna lonely and upset.” She rolled her eyes a let out an amused huff at his words, craning her neck so she was mere inches away from his face. “So you’ll stay?” She whispered, knowing that she’d already won the minute he hadn’t actually gotten up when he announced he needed breakfast.

Instead of responding right away, Dazai leaned down and planted a gentle kiss to her pouting mouth. She was just so irresistible. ��Of course, darling,” he murmured against her lips, pulling her head back into his chest and smiling as he felt her snuggle closer. She truly was his everything. “Five more minutes with you is nothing short of pure bliss.”

Five minutes left.

Y/N thought she might pass out from the sheer terror that consumed her, threatening to pull her under completely. She would never see her friends again, including all of the agency members she had grown to call her family. She would die before saying goodbye to her loved ones- to Dazai. How would he react when he found her body, or what was left of it? How would he cope? The very thought forced a watery sob from her throat.

This is the end.

I’m going to die without seeing him one last time.

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded outside of the door to her prison and startled her out of her despair. It sounded like someone throwing their body against the heavy steel door. She froze, swallowing back her tears and preparing herself for the worst. Maybe the men were back to torture her one last time before setting off the bomb. As her mind came up with the worst possible scenarios, a familiar grunt reached her ears through the metal walls. It couldn’t be. After a beat, she heard the noise again. Then- “Y/N?”

She nearly stopped breathing at the sound of his angelic lilt. “…Samu?” She called out weakly, afraid to let herself be filled with hope in case it was some kind of cruel trick. “Y/N!” He yelled back, a mixture of desperation and relief in his voice as the banging noises continued. It was incredible how quickly hearing his voice had managed to relax her, even if she knew she was still in immediate danger. He always did have a calming effect on her. “Osamu, I don’t have much time left,” she gasped, desperately struggling against her restraints. Now that she knew he was here, she wanted nothing more than to be with him.

“I know, I know. I’m gonna get you out of here, baby,” he assured her through the cold metal door, giving the handle another frustrated jolt. Why couldn’t he have been blessed with a strength-related ability? “Those assholes had some ability users up their sleeve, so the others are busy trying to break through their defenses,” he explained in a rush, throwing his body into the door again despite the blooming pain in his shoulder. He wouldn’t have the help of Atsushi or Kenji like they had originally planned, and that worried him. “I promise, I won’t stop until I get into that room and you’re safe.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a voice suddenly boomed over a hidden speaker, catching the attention of both Dazai and Y/N as their heads snapped upwards in near unison. Her blood ran cold as she recognized it as the voice of her captor. “Break into that room, and we’ll set off the bomb early. Didn’t you listen to us? This is your penance, Dazai,” he spoke, clear amusement in his tone. The bastard was watching them from somewhere else in the underground facility, enjoying their pain. Using it as entertainment.

Three minutes left.

Dazai grimaced outside of the door, hands balling into fists as a new fear and rage ignited inside of him. There was never going to be a way to reach her without the bomb going off. It was a cruel way to torture him; forcing him to either live with the guilt of leaving her and save his own life, or stay with her until the bitter end. It wasn’t a difficult choice to make.

As Y/N pieced together the new information, she quickly came to the same conclusion as her boyfriend and felt her eyes go wide. “Dazai, NO! Get away from here, now!” She screamed, fresh tears already burning in her eyes. She knew that he was selfless and loved her more than anything, but in that moment she wanted him to turn his back on her. To break her heart and leave her behind to save himself.

Ramming his now probably broken shoulder into the cold, unforgiving metal one last time, Dazai shook his head as he slowly sank to the floor. His hands were raw and bleeding from practically clawing at the wall for a weak point, but he didn’t care. Nothing else mattered anymore but staying with her. “I won’t leave you,” he said simply, leaning his head against the wall. The agony of knowing that she was in that room, alone and afraid, minutes away from her death, was crushing. But if he could offer her even the smallest comfort before that timer hit zero, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Meanwhile, Y/N was on the verge of a panic attack. Tears streamed down her face and she struggled to breathe, completely overwhelmed by what was happening. To have to accept that she really was about to die a horrible and graphic death in a few minutes was terrifying, but to know that Dazai was right outside the door and would also die if he stayed; that was too much. She knew how stubborn he was, but she had to try to make him leave anyway. Anything to get him to save himself.

“Please,” she cried desperately, consumed with grief as sobs wracked through her body. “You can’t stay, Dazai, you have to GO!” Hearing her in so much pain was like a thousand knives to the heart, but despite everything, Dazai couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his face. She really didn’t get it. “Go where, huh? There’s nowhere in this world I would go without you,” he spoke softly, shutting his eyes and letting out a small sigh. He seemed strangely content.

She continued to sob, choking on her breaths as the timer reached one minute. He was so stupid and selfless and wonderful- she couldn’t let him die. “Please…you can’t do this to me, you have to leave…you can’t stay,” she whimpered almost incoherently, barely able to yell anymore. Her strength was running out, her body exhausted from all of the mental turmoil. Still, she continued to strain against the chains wrapped tightly around her as if she could break them by sheer will. “Don’t be scared, Y/N,” he called to her, the smile still on his face. “I’m right here with you and I’m not leaving you. It’s gonna be okay.” Through the walls he could hear her voice break as she wailed in agony at his words, the sound blood-curdling.

Thirty seconds.

Dazai thought it ironic that this was the way he was going out; a tragic double suicide with his lover. It was almost funny. Almost. “I love you, darling. My sweet belladonna. Not even death can keep us apart,” he reassured her, opening his eyes and staring at the wall as if he could look straight through the metal and meet her gaze. His heart squeezed in his chest as she let out another horrible, strangled sob. “There- isn’t much time- left,” she gasped in between breaths, her whole body trembling. Why couldn’t he leave her? Why couldn’t he save himself? He was too important to the ADA, to the world, to die. The guilt was eating her alive.

Ten seconds.

“I love you, Y/N,” he repeated, and he was never more sure of his words. She let out one last piercing, guttural scream, pulling at the chains so hard her skin started to bleed. She thought she might faint from the agonizing anticipation as the clock counted down her last moments of life; their last moments. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut in defeat. He shook his head once again. She had nothing to be sorry for. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered one final time, placing his bloody hand against the door. Offering his comfort in their last seconds alive.

Three.

Two.

One.

Silence. A flash of white hot light. A horrible booming noise. Then, nothing.

The rest of the ADA halted in their battle at the sound of the explosion, staring at one another in horror. Smoke billowed out from one of the dingy tunnels, the familiar scent of flames filling the air. There was no way they had failed…right? The couldn’t have lost Y/N and Dazai; not when they had worked so hard to get out of the situation with everyone unharmed.

The sound of cackling laughter echoed through the underground base mere moments after the explosion, drawing their attention to a man emerging from the shadows. They immediately recognized him as the man from the video- the organization’s leader who had personally tormented Y/N.

“The great Dazai Osamu is dead,” he shrieked, his crazed laughter forcing him to double over. The rest of the organization’s thugs began to jeer and laugh along with him, celebrating their victory over the ADA’s elusive genius. Atsushi felt tears welling in his eyes, not just for the tragic and sudden loss of his brilliant mentor whom he deeply cared for, but for Y/N as well. Those pieces of shit didn’t even care that they had killed her too; to them she was just a means to an end. The sweet woman who had shown him nothing but kindness when he joined the ADA and brought so much joy into their lives…dead.

To his left, Kunikida was also fighting back angry tears, refusing to accept that his frustrating but brilliant partner had truly been killed by these incompetent fools. Kyoka and Kenji’s eyes were blown wide in shock while Tanizaki panted heavily, his mouth gaping. It seemed that none of them could actually comprehend that the pair were truly dead and gone.

“You detectives are nothing but a bunch of sentimental fools!” The man cackled, face red and eyes bulging. He looked insane. “I can’t believe your genius was lured and killed by such an easy trap. All it took was kidnapping that little bitch and blowing her up!” All of the ADA members tensed, looking visibly appalled by his cruel, demeaning words. Not only was this man completely unhinged, but he was outright mocking an innocent woman’s death.

It was sickening.

Just as the sinking feeling of dread began to settle in the pit of Atsushi’s stomach, a distant but familiar voice called out from the smoke to interrupt their little celebration. “Ah, you underestimate me…” the voice drawled, jerking everyone’s attention to the smoking tunnel. All of the color drained from the leader’s face as he watched three silhouettes slowly emerge from the haze. “No…that’s impossible!” He screeched, all confidence gone and white as a ghost as he pointed at the trio with a shaking finger. “I watched you die! I-I saw it with my own eyes!”

Dazai, Y/N, and Dr. Yosano appeared at the entrance of the tunnel as the smoke cleared, Y/N leaned against Dazai for support while Yosano brandished her weapon. Y/N looked slightly stunned and shaken up, but the two survivors otherwise seemed completely unharmed, no trace of any injuries on their bodies.

“You did,” Dazai flashed his signature shit-eating grin, eyes flicking over to their team’s resident doctor. “Thankfully we had a backup plan in case you tried anything dirty, like you did.”

Ranpo had luckily had the foresight to bring in Yosano from a different entry point and position her near the cell that Y/N was being held in once they figured out her location, in the event that things went wrong and the bomb went off. That way she was there to immediately patch them up with her ability once it detonated, making it so that the harm was only temporary. There had never been any real threat of death; as long as Yosano worked fast enough, that is.

“You were a fool to play with this woman’s life to get back at an enemy,” Yosano spat, pointing her cleaver at the now trembling man before her. “Those who do not properly respect life will receive the ultimate punishment!” The rest of the thugs glanced around uneasily, sensing a shift in the power dynamic of the fight. Suddenly their main target was alive and well, and the rest of the agency seemed even more bloodthirsty than before.

“I-Impossible! No!” He cried, slowly backing towards another tunnel. The ADA members adjusted their stances and stared him down with what could only be described as murderous glints in their eyes, making it clear that he wouldn’t be getting away without a gruesome fight. He gulped. “Take this as a lesson!” Dazai announced cheerfully, still smiling but now with a terrifyingly cold and emotionless look in his eyes.

“There are grave consequences for those who hurt the people I love. And you’ve stupidly chosen to hurt the person I love most.”

It was a blur after that, all hell breaking loose. Dazai quickly ordered Tanizaki to cloak Y/N with his ability and get her safely to the surface as fighting broke out all around them. She wanted to protest, but the look in his eyes told her that he just wanted to get her out of harm’s way for the time being and that’d he be back at her side as soon as he was done dealing with the room of pitiful men. She certainly didn’t want to stick around and see what he and the rest of the ADA had in store for them. He pressed one last comforting kiss to her forehead before sending her off to escape with the ginger detective, his fiercely protective gaze never once leaving her as she fled the scene.

Covering the two of them with Light Snow, Tanizaki grabbed Y/N by the wrist and rushed her out of the disgusting underground hideout, pulling her away from the violent fight that had broken out. He knew that it would only be a few minutes until the team was done putting those miserable scumbags in their place.

They eventually reached the entrance of the base after a few tense minutes of running through winding tunnels, finding Ranpo and a trusted driver from the agency waiting in a running car. Tanizaki carefully opened the backseat door for her and made sure she was safely in the car before stepping back, flashing a comforting smile. “I’m so happy to see that you’re safe, Y/N. Ranpo will take care of the rest and make sure you get back to the agency safely,” he quickly explained, nodding at the driver before closing the car door and giving her a small wave.

Although she was still shellshocked, she managed a small wave in return and and even smaller smile. “Thank you,” she mouthed as the car pulled away, grateful for his help in getting her out of that hellhole. She was happy to leave the horrible place behind.

“Good to see you, Y/N,” Ranpo greeted from the seat next to her, drawing her attention away from the now small spec that was Tanizaki. Seeing her old friend sitting next to her filled her with so much relief she could hardly breathe. She opened her mouth to thank him for everything, knowing that the elaborate rescue plan was his doing, but the words caught in her throat. Everything had happened so fast that she barely had any time to process it. The bomb going off, practically dying, being saved by Yosano, briefly reuniting with Dazai, escaping the underground labyrinth. She was so overwhelmed with emotion as she realized she was actually alive and safe. Dazai was alive and safe.

We survived…

but we almost didn’t.

She promptly bent over and threw up onto the floor of the car.

Ranpo shrank into the corner of his seat, looking wildly uncomfortable but biting back his usual snarky and tone-deaf remarks. She had been through a lot, and her body had to expel all of those suffocating emotions somehow. “I had a feeling you would do that,” he grimaced, but he nonetheless leaned over and gently pat her back in a small act of comfort. Coughing on bile, Y/N felt hot tears burning the back of her eyes at the detective’s kind gesture. Everyone at the agency had shown up to help her in one way or another, and it was staggering to see just how much they cared.

Even in this very vulnerable moment, Ranpo was offering his genuine support, something that was incredibly rare for him. She would have to buy him a big care package of his favorite snacks later to show her gratitude for all he had done for her.

Eventually the car arrived at the agency, the normally bustling streets of Yokohama quiet and deserted in the late hour. Y/N apologized profusely to the driver for the small mess in the car, thoroughly embarrassed even though she hadn’t been able to help it. He simply dismissed it with a wave of his hand and an understanding smile. “No problem whatsoever, miss. You just take it easy.”

With that, Ranpo carefully guided her into the safety of the agency, leading her upstairs with one arm draped over her shoulder. When the pair finally reached the office, Y/N practically collapsed into one of the couches in the lounge area, letting out a sigh and massaging her temples to try and soothe her pounding head. Being dehydrated and malnourished for nearly 24 hours wasn’t exactly helping her stress-induced headache that had quickly developed in the car ride over.

Once again, as if reading her mind, Ranpo disappeared for a moment before returning with a water bottle, a few snacks, medicine, and a blanket in his arms, placing them on the coffee table in front of her. It was like he knew everything she needed- and he probably did. “Rest up and take care of yourself,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for debate. “I’m sure Dazai will be here soon to take you home, but in the meantime try to relax and get some food and water in you. You’ve had a long day.” She smiled gratefully, albeit a little tiredly, at the gesture. Yet another rare display of his care.

“Thank you, for everything,” she whispered, trying to convey just how sincerely she meant those words. She wouldn’t soon forget his help. He flashed her a small, lopsided grin before waving her off dramatically. “It was nothing for the world’s greatest detective!” He declared, pointing a finger into the air before turning on his heels and making his way back to his desk, munching on a snack of his own. Just like that, Y/N was alone.

She quietly opened one of the snacks Ranpo had provided her, washing down some pain-relief pills with the water after she’d eaten a few bites. When her nauseous stomach began to protest the food, she forced herself to stop. Although she was still incredibly hungry, she certainly didn’t want to end up with another mess to clean up. Shuddering at the thought, she wrapped herself up with the plush blanket and tried to calm her racing heart. Her mind was still reeling from everything. The constant thoughts of the traumatic events she had just undergone only made her headache and nausea worse by the minute, and her brain felt like it might explode.

She was exhausted.

If she could just clear her mind and close her eyes for a moment…

Without even realizing she had dozed off on the couch, she awoke some time later to the feeling of a slender hand cupping her cheek, stroking her jaw with delicate precision. She didn’t even have to open her eyes to know it was Dazai. “Wake up, my love,” his hushed voice cooed, immediately pulling her from her slumber. Slowly blinking her eyes open, she was met with his comforting smile, but his eyes were unimaginably sad. Her heart ached.

“Ready to go home?”

Nodding sleepily, Y/N slowly picked herself up from the couch, shrugging the blanket off her shoulders and neatly folding it up before placing it back on the coffee table. After gathering her bearings, she realized that some of the other agency members had also returned to the office, likely to fill out paperwork before heading home for the night. She felt a pang of guilt shoot through her as she realized they would have to do extra work because of her. If you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself kidnapped, they would all be home sleeping right now.

A dreadful thought suddenly crossed her mind. Would she have to fill out paperwork and recount what had happened to her? It seemed likely, as they kept track of nearly every incident like this. The very idea made another wave of nausea roll through her.

As if sensing her worry, Kunikida rounded the corner with a stack of papers in-hand, taking in her dead-tired appearance with a single glance. “Just so you know, we will need a statement on what happened eventually, Y/N, but I don’t want you to even think about it until you’re recovered and ready to talk,” he instructed, concern and sympathy evident in his expression despite his no-nonsense tone. He was truly glad to see her safe and back under the protection of the agency. Y/N nodded, relieved that she wouldn’t have to recount the traumatic events until she was ready. At the moment she couldn’t even imagine a time when she would ever feel ready.

Turning his attention to Dazai, the sympathetic look vanished from Kunikida’s face and morphed into one of general annoyance. “Don’t think that you’re getting out of doing the paperwork just because you almost died,” he barked, jabbing an accusing finger at his partner’s chest. “It’s no excuse to be lazy.”

Dazai placed a hand to his heart and looked aghast, as if the very insinuation of him trying to avoid paperwork was ridiculous. “Me? Getting out of paperwork? Really, Kunikida-kun, what do you take me for?” He gasped, earning a growl and a sharp smack to the head with a roll of papers.

Their antics miraculously drew out a soft chuckle from Y/N’s lips, but it was half-hearted at best. As enjoyable as Dazai and Kunikida’s banter was, her eyes still drooped with fatigue and her anxious mind longed to rest in the comfort of her own home. She just wanted this horrible day to be over with. Gaze dropping to Y/N’s face at the sound of her reserved amusement, Dazai quickly noted the weight of her exhaustion and took it as their cue to leave.

“I think it’s time for us to get home,” he announced, glancing back up at Kunikida and sharing a knowing look with him. The blond held his stare for a moment before sighing, giving a small nod before politely bidding the two a good night and moving on to pester Ranpo about doing his work.

Placing a hand on the small of her back, Dazai carefully led Y/N out of the agency and into the streets of Yokohama below, glancing at her every few minutes to make sure she was doing ok. She was quiet during the walk home, her expression blank and her eyelids heavy. He found himself wishing he could figure out what she was thinking. Normally he could read her like a book, always knowing exactly how she was feeling or what was troubling her. Now she just seemed numb. A dark part of his mind feared that she was distancing herself from him because their relationship had nearly gotten her killed.

Would she even want to be with him anymore? Would she leave him to heal the trauma he had caused her? He shuddered at the thought.

Eventually arriving at their destination, Y/N quickly realized that Dazai had led her back to his apartment instead of her own. That’s right. Mine was broken into, and no one’s been around to clean up the mess that was probably left behind. She was grateful for his thoughtfulness. There was no way she would’ve been able to keep her composure if she had walked into her home and seen the evidence of her capture.

Walking into the entryway after Dazai had unlocked the door, Y/N immediately wanted to cry as the warm, familiar scent of his apartment hit her. It just smelled like him, something she thought she’d lost mere hours ago. The familiarity of the space nearly brought tears to her eyes.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

Noticing her distant, watery gaze, Dazai quickly swooped in to distract her, helping her slip out of her shoes and guiding her to the bedroom to change out of her clothes. Although Yosano had done away with all of the physical injuries on her body, she still felt dirty, the scent of mold and metal clinging to her shirt. It drew her back to that room and the horrible, agonizingly slow ticking of the bomb. The memories lingered in the back of her mind as she discarded her old clothes, slipping into a comfortable t-shirt and a soft pair of shorts that she kept in Dazai’s drawer for the nights when she slept over.

“Better?” Dazai questioned softly when she had finished changing, eyes searching hers almost frantically for any sign of discomfort. He wanted to help her in any way possible, but for once in his life, he didn’t know what to do. The day had taken a toll on him as well and he was struggling to maintain his calm facade. Staring deep into his eyes, she gave the slightest of nods and opened her mouth to reassure him, to tell him that she was ok now. She was home, she was safe thanks to him, she was with him- everything had turned out just fine. But for the second time that night, the words refused to come out.

Instead, she just stared in silence before collapsing into a sudden fit of sobs, knees buckling and sending her falling to the hardwood below. Panicked, Dazai scrambled to meet her at the floor, strong arms holding her steady while she attempted to muffle her pained cries with the palm of her hand. Her sudden tears had him terrified that he had done something wrong. “Hey, hey, what’s the matter, angel? Please, let me help-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence before she threw herself into his arms, holding him tighter than she had ever held anyone.

Her desperation to feel him and be close to him now was due to the fact that their reunion in the underground base had been so short lived. Y/N was in too much shock, not understanding how she had gone from dying a gruesome death to perfectly fine in only a matter of seconds. She could barely even register Dazai’s arms wrapped around her in a bone crushing hug or the sweet encouragements he was whispering in her ear.

Dazai was used to Yosano’s incredible ability. Having been saved by it countless times, being revived by the dark-haired doctor was practically second nature to him. But Y/N was still reeling from the excruciating pain she had experienced moments ago that had just vanished. It was like it had tattooed itself under her skin, a painful memory of her near-death.

The shock of being revived clouded her mind as Dazai had clutched her body close, kissing her forehead and squeezing her tight. She couldn’t even enjoy the pure relief that normally would have filled her when she pieced together that she was alive and safe in her loving boyfriend’s arms. Before she could comprehend what was going on, he had already helped her off the ground and had begun to walk her down the hallway with Yosano, headed towards the main fight.

Now, on the floor of Dazai’s dark bedroom, her mind had finally registered exactly what had transpired mere hours ago. He sacrificed himself just so I wouldn’t be alone in my last moments. He stayed with me until the very end, and he was the first thing I saw after I was healed by Yosano. He means more to me than anyone ever has- and I almost got him killed.

Shushing her cries of despair, Dazai cradled her head to his chest, feeling tears building in his own eyes. He just wanted to take all of her pain away. “Shhh…it’s alright, darling, you’re safe,” he whispered into her ear, feeling her grip around him tighten even more. She was gasping for breath, practically hyperventilating. It seemed her distress was never ending. “Please, my love…please tell me what’s wrong…I want to help you,” he muttered, stroking her hair and pressing gentle kisses into the crown of her head. Her muffled cries only grew louder and he only felt more helpless.

Eventually, after a few minutes of his hushed reassurances and tight, comforting hold, she managed to catch her breath enough to speak. When she pulled away from his chest and finally looked up at him, her eyes held a sorrow so deep that it broke Dazai’s heart all over again. “I- I’m so sorry,” she rasped, sounding completely broken. “You almost died because of me. I hurt you.” Another watery sob escaped her throat before she hung her head and pressed a hand to her lips yet again to stifle her pained cries.

Her words left him in utter shock. He couldn’t imagine how she could possibly think any of this was on her. Not when the truth was the complete opposite. It was time for him to be honest about his feelings, no matter how terrifying it was. “Hey…will you look at me?” He questioned gently, tilting her chin upwards with his finger to guide her gaze back to his. The smallest of smiles graced his lips when she finally complied, glassy eyes locking on his own. “There you are. It hurts that you blame yourself at all, darling. Especially when it’s me you have to blame for all of this.” When her distraught expression morphed into one of confusion, his hands made their way to her own, squeezing them tight. She absentmindedly stroked her thumb along his wrist in a comforting gesture, urging him to explain.

“…I knew Yosano would be there the whole time we were trying to rescue you. I knew she was waiting for us in case things went wrong, and that she would heal us if the bomb went off,” he began, staring intently into her eyes as he spoke. “But listening to you in there, scared and alone, waiting for it to detonate, was horrible. It was the worst possible scenario that we tried so hard to avoid. And knowing that you would have to endure the god awful pain of the explosion even for a moment, and I could do nothing about it, made me sick. It was just another cruel reminder that I always end up hurting the people I care for.”

His sincere confession had stunned Y/N. Though she and her boyfriend were incredibly close, Dazai was a fairly private person who didn’t often air his deep insecurities. The fact that he was being so vulnerable in this moment told her just how genuine his words were, and it hurt like hell to hear. Before she could say anything to rebut his confession, he continued. “I just feel like…a curse to the people I love most. They’ll always be hurt or worse because of me. And it’s so hard to live with myself because of that.”

Eyes widening, Y/N shook her head in disbelief. She couldn’t even imagine where his horrible self-deprecating talk was coming from. “How could you even say that? You saved me. I’m only here and alive because of you and the agency.” He let out a soft, humorless chuckle at her words, his gaze distant. “I failed you, my love. You were almost killed because of me.” He practically spat the word out, like he was disgusted with himself. His grip on her hands tightened.

“The whole reason those men took you in the first place was to get revenge on me. To force me to choose to live with the guilt of letting you die, or die alongside you. The fact that you had to be wrapped up in all that, traumatized and hurt and almost killed because of my enemies, my line of work…” he trailed off, his voice nearly breaking as his eyes begged her to understand. “No matter how careful I was and how much I tried to protect you, it meant nothing in the end.”

The guilt inside of him was all-consuming. Yes, they had saved her. Yes, they had made sure that the organization would never lay a finger on her or anyone else ever again. But what if something had gone wrong? What if they had been outsmarted, and Yosano hadn’t been waiting in the wings to heal them after the bomb went off? Y/N had been tortured, terrified, in pain because of him. To know that it was his fault that she had been scarred so deeply was his own personal hell.

In a way, the assholes who kidnapped her had won. It was Dazai’s penance, as their leader had called it- still living with the crushing guilt even after he had saved her. Hating himself over and over again for putting her in that position in the first place. Remembering her in the video, bruised and bloody and scared for her life. Constantly reliving her desperate cries for him to leave her in those final moments while he was utterly helpless to save her.

It was torture.

He just felt so stupid for being outsmarted by the lowly organization and allowing his precious lover to get hurt in the process.

“Dazai,” Y/N spoke sharply, effectively snapping him out of his spiral. She rarely called him Dazai unless she was being serious, and she couldn’t stand hearing him blame himself for one more second. “I won’t lie to you and say that today wasn’t one of the worst days of my life. The fear I felt, knowing I’d been taken from my home, having to count down the minutes to my death…” she paused, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head as if willing away the unpleasant memories. He patiently waited for her to come back to herself, giving her hands a comforting squeeze.

“…It’ll take me a long time to get over that,” she finally admitted after a moment. “But the worst part of it wasn’t being kidnapped, or hurt by those men, or waiting for the inevitable explosion. It was thinking that I was going to lose you too. All I could focus on in those last minutes was you behind that door, too stubborn to leave me. All I could think about was how much I loved you, and how much I wanted you to be selfish for once and save yourself.”

She watched as he blinked back tears, a mystified expression in his face. As if the very thought of someone worrying about him and his life was completely foreign. Wanting to make herself absolutely clear, she kept going, no matter how much it hurt to see him struggling to understand her love for him. “I could never blame you for what happened. Those men did this to us- they caused all this pain and hurt. Not you.”

Her words left him dumbfounded, to say the least. They managed to remind him of why he loved her as fiercely as he did- she was the good in his life. Even after such a traumatic experience, she was incapable of blaming him for what had happened. Her love and compassion for him despite the darkness he brought into their lives was eye opening, forcing him to realize that no matter how much he thought it untrue, he was capable of being loved.

And how lucky he was to be loved by her.

Unable to articulate his complicated feelings any other way, Dazai cupped her face and surged forward, pressing his lips into her own and kissing her with such genuine fervor that it left Y/N breathless. Although she was momentarily shocked by his sudden show of affection, it quickly wore off as she melted into him. This was the first time they had truly kissed since reuniting, and they were each aching to communicate just how much they loved one another. How close they were to losing their other half; the person that completely them.

Her hands raked through his brown curls almost erratically, desperate to compensate for those long, torturous hours spent away from him. He seemed equally if not more hungry for her touch, like he was trying to prove to himself that she was really there with him after their near death experience. His slender fingers glided across her body and gripped her closer to him, nearly feral in his pursuit to feel every inch of her. She tugged at the hair near the base of his head and elicited a low, rumbling moan in return.

“My beautiful girl,” he rasped as he briefly pulled away, eyes roaming over her body with a look of complete infatuation. She was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen—and he’d almost lost her. His arm snaked around her waist to tug her impossibly closer, practically pulling her into his lap. She didn’t mind.

He continued to plant kisses all over her face, her hair, her jaw- anywhere he could reach. His lips ghosted over every inch of skin that had previously been covered in blood or bruises, almost as though he had memorized the exact locations of all her injuries just from watching the video hours ago. Knowing Dazai, he probably had committed all of her injuries to memory.

In between kisses, he muttered gentle praises and affections into her ear, all of which made her face flush a deep red. She would never tire of the way his whispered adorations made her heart race and the feeling of his soft lips against her skin. “My darling. My sweet belladonna. You’re everything to me. Everything,” he breathed, kissing the tip of her nose. “Words cannot even describe how much you mean to me. I’m nothing without you.”

Y/N rolled her head back as his lips trailed up her neck and neared her jawline, sucking in a sharp breath when his hands moved into her hair and his grip tightened. His kisses were becoming more passionate, more anxious to prove to her how grateful he was that she was finally back in his arms. That he would never let anyone lay a hand on her again. She allowed his love the wash over her, happily reciprocating when his lips finally captured her own once again.

He tasted like salty tears and home.

Eventually breaking away from one another to catch their breath, Y/N rested her forehead against Dazai’s and let out a shaky sigh, finally letting herself feel safe after what had felt like an eternity of fear and unease. Just being in his presence was enough to help alleviate some of crushing panic she had felt just hours ago.

“Thank you for being with me. For always protecting me, even when you think you’re not. And for never leaving me behind,” she whispered, glancing up into his big brown eyes that were mere inches away from her own. Although the thought of him almost dying with her in the explosion filled her entire being with dread, his determination to stay with her and offer her comfort until the very end meant more to her than she could explain.

“I wouldn’t dream of abandoning you. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life protecting you and making sure something like this never happens again,” he assured her with nothing but sincerity in his soothing voice, taking her hands and gently brushing his lips over her knuckles. Her eyes fluttered closed at the gesture. “You are the most wonderful thing in my life. My reason for living at all. It’s hard to wrap my head around what I’ve possibly done to deserve you, but I promise I’ll do everything within my power to cherish you and keep you safe as long as I live.”

Y/N felt herself genuinely smiling for the first time in hours at her lover’s words. She was filled with such utter relief to be back in the safety of his arms. To be home, alive, and in love despite it all. Her heart felt like it would burst from all the love it held for Dazai Osamu.

“I love you,” she breathed, eyes meeting gentle brown once again. She was desperate for him to understand just how much she meant those words. To convey how safe he made her feel, and how much his presence comforted her. That no matter the danger she was in, she knew he would always be there for her.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied effortlessly, a part of him melting at the sight of her smile. He would burn the world just to keep that beautiful expression on her face. He made a silent vow to himself in that moment— no matter what it took, he would never lose her again.

The two eventually ended up in Dazai’s bed, practically clinging to one another as they shifted into a comfortable position. There would be no such thing as personal space that night. Y/N, who had been worried that the horrors she had faced would keep her exhausted body awake through the night, was pleasantly surprised to find that she was calm and content in Dazai’s embrace, already dozing off. He chuckled softly as her whole body relaxed against him.

“Sleep tight, my love. I’ve got you,” he mumbled into her hair, his warm breath fanning across her neck. She shivered and nuzzled herself further into his embrace, a soft smile on her face. No harm would come to her so long as she was in his arms.

Though they were both still riddled with guilt and turbulent emotions from the terrible night, they silently agreed to let go of their baggage for the time being and just appreciate one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.

Safe and home at last.

………………………………………………………………………………….

☆ note: yeahhhh dazai fic! i literally haven’t written in ages but i’ve been knee-deep in my bungo stray dogs era and dazai is taking up most of my brain capacity at the moment. this feels both rushed and wayyyy too long at the same time lol, i just had that feral writing energy and had to get it off my chest as soon as possible. it might be a mess but i’m exhausted and i’ve reread it too many times to catch all my mistakes lmaooo whatever. thanks so much for reading :)

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freakoont · 7 months ago

Note

In love with your Ranpo fics fr, could I order another Ranpo fic? Maybe something similar to unrequited love again (⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠) but this time from his perspective

❝𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?❞

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, (𝐘/𝐍) 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 // 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

【ＳＦＷ】

GENDER NETURAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')

NOT PROOF READ !

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! check the bottom of this post for information <3

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

Ranpo Edogawa, it was hard to describe him... He was definitely special, to you. There was just something about the way he'd happily say your name as he would run up to you with the latest snack he'd find... Or how he'd ramble about his day to you... Or the way he'd call you his favorite assistant.

He definitely knew how to make someone smile... But he also knew how to make someone feel dumb.

It's been... How long since you've known this guy? How long have you been trying to make it obvious that you liked him?

For someone who called themselves the world's greatest detective... He could also be clueless.

How many gifts, snacks and treats, have you left on his desk since you've met him? How much do you have to deal with his cockiness and tease? How long. Have you waited. For him to say. Three simple words?

╰┈➤ ❝I love you❞

Maybe its time you give up. There's no point in trying. He'll just never notice it, huh?

Or maybe he has, but just doesn't care... Maybe he just doesn't see you anymore than just a friend.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

Ranpo stepped into the Agency a few days later, ready to be visited by your great smile and a big hug from you ! He always loved it when you'd give him attention, it was a different kind of attention compared to the other agency members.. similar to that same respect that he had with Fukuzawa.

"(Y/NN) !" He called out to you, noticing how you were at your desk, not jumping to greet to him, like you often did. He didn't suspect anything at first.

You turned to him with a straight look, no smile at all... "Yes?"

"wellllll?" He dragged along, holding his hand out. You were silent for a moment before pulling a small lollipop from your pocket and placing it in his hands. "That's it??" He questioned, disappointed. You often brought him big and new things from different stores and bakeries. Besides, didn't you promise him a surprise a few days ago??

"I don't have anything else on me," you spoke before turning your attention back to your computer, typing away and choosing to end the conversation there.

Ranpo stared at you for a moment, quiet.

He didn't want to question it, so he chose to ignore it and sit down at his desk. 'Maybe you're just feeling down. Or having a mood swing.' he thought to himself while he put his legs up on his desk and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

It wouldn't take long for Ranpo to notice a pattern after just a few days. You seemed to be ignoring him more and more. You gave your attention to the work and other members instead of him.

What, him jealous? No..

Why would he be jealous? He's the world's greatest detective ! The thought of love just didn't sit right with him. He was too busy helping dumb little cops with their cases to get into that business ! ...right?

That night, he stared up at his ceiling, not seeming to fall asleep as he thought about your pretty face or how you'd smile at him... Or the way you'd pamper him with more attention then he could ever get compared to all the other agency members combined.

...

...maybe he did miss you, just a little.

...

What felt like forever, only a few weeks, since he's actually hung out with you, he's decided to confront you about this! Obviously there's something upsetting you that he's not knowing about? It's that easy to see!

"(Y/N)." His voice had called out to you as you were ready to enter the Agency building. You turned to see him standing with a frustrated and upset, yet saddened, look on his poor face.

"yes-?"

"why are you ignoring me." He cut you off, not wanting to wait any longer to know the truth.

You were quiet to say the least, but not surprised. ".. whatever do you mean?"

"don't act stupid, (Y/N). I can easily pull out my glasses and use my ultra deduction if I wanted to." He paused with a sigh as he looked up. He had noticed a small leaf fall from the sky, the wind carrying it as it fell on top of your head. He couldn't help but smile a little, but he was still serious about getting an answer. "But I want to hear the reason from you."

"... You tell me, Edogawa." He was a little shocked by you calling him by his surname. That was.. a different approach. Slowly he pulled his glasses out and pushed it up the bridge of his nose, staring at you quietly.

"... y'know, you could've told me all that time, yeah.. I was bound to.. deduce it eventually.."

"..I know." You lied.

"..so why didn't you?"

You were quiet for a moment before pulling that leaf, that fell on your head, out of your hair and holding it in between your fingers. Ranpo didn't like the friction in the air, it oddly felt intense to him. Maybe it was just the awkwardness between you too... But he didn't understand why it had to be like this. "...I don't know."

"no, you do know."

"..I guess," you paused and sighed, letting the leaf fall to the ground. "So what now?"

"..is it too late to say I love you..?" He spoke under his breath, the smallest tint of blush on his pretty face.

"..yeah."

"..you've lost those feelings, huh?" You nodded your head while awkwardly smiling at the ground, your hands were held tightly together. "..sorry. I was an idiot."

"let's just stay friends..."

"..ah, of course."

It hurts to be the greatest yet feel the worst.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

REQUESTS - I am accepting any requests for any character for the following fandoms:

Bungo Stray Dogs, Genshin Impact, Danganronpa, Ninjago, Southpark, Obey Me, 7 Deadly Sins, Tokyo Revengers, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Death Note, Walking Dead, Demon Slayer, Assassination Classroom, Hunter X Hunter, Komi Can't Communicate, Diabolik Lovers and Doki Doki Literature Club

I will write any of the following: smut (all characters WILL be aged up), fluff, crack/joke, specific plot, angst, HC's, BL, GL

Do not expect me to write any of the following: intense gore scene, sexual themes that are disturbing to most people and anything that will get me banned for a specific and obvious reason.

I accept requests for any character from any of the fandoms I have named :)

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beastszai · 8 months ago

Text

✦ Dazai and Chuuya childhood headcanons (2/2) ✦

part 1

!!! THIS POST CONTAINS STORMBRINGER SPOILERS !!!

♫ Orchard - OMORI

✧ warnings : STORMBRINGER SPOILERS・mentions of s*icide, death, hospitalization, alcoholism, etc.・angst・pure angst…・ooc (???)

✧ a/n : got way too long im sorr… but I love chuuya so much and all these headcanons have been eating dust in the back of my head and im so happy (lie) to finally post them

w/c : 950

!!! these are just personal headcanons and are not accurate to the canon story !!!

✦ Chuuya :

Chuuya’s parents weren’t blessed with a child even after years of marriage…

…So when he was born, they were so happy that they celebrated 3 days and nights (like the real Chuuya Nakahara !!)

Such a sweet boy… very polite and a tiny bit shy

He actually had an amazing bond with both his parents

And they loved him a lot, too!

How mini Chuuya would help his mom around the house, how he would randomly tell her that he loves her :,^)

Chuuya was probably interested in his father’s work (military doctor, like the real Chuuya’s father!!)

AUGHH he would peek at his dad working with those big blue curious eyes

Also, unlike Dazai, I headcanon that Chuuya has siblings!

2 little sisters!!

When his first little sister was born, he was probably around 3 or 4

Was quick to grow attached to his sister

And when his second sister came around, he was around 7

Was very overprotective of his sisters, and had a big soft spot for them

Would piggyback carry their younger sister every morning to school while holding his other sisters hand

Brilliant kid

Adored by absolutely everyone and everything

Chuuya and the family dinners with the rest of the Nakahara family SIGHHH

His mom always worried about him not eating enough (even though he did.)

His dad developed this hobby and habit of checking Chuuya and his sisters’ heights and mark them on the wall

Chuuya wasn’t the happiest when he figured that his younger sister was nearly the same height as him…

And regarding Stormbringer and how he was put in a lab…

Ohhh how his mom was losing her mind over Chuuya’s father allowing such a thing

His family kind of… grew distant and fell apart from then on

Constant arguing between his parents while he was in the lab… how his sister would cover their younger sister’s ears each time they’d argue

She’d ask where Chuuya had gone every now and then, but it was like a forbidden topic in the house

His mom would either tear up or just lash out on his sister

And his dad would yell and cuss her out, saying things like “Goddammit stop asking stupid questions! He’s fine for god’s sake!!! Be patient and he’ll be back sooner than you think!!!”

Chuuya’s dad wasn’t very happy with the decision he made either

Regretting it like crazy and losing sleep, losing focus…

And once the news broke that their one and only son was dead (aka his clone… fuck stormbringer bro…)

His family was worse than ever before.

Chuuya’s dad cried… a lot. Fell into being an alcoholic for a long time

His sisters? Despite their young age and how they couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea of death…

They were devastated. Completely had their hearts and souls shattered

But his mom… she was the worst out of them all

It broke her so much that she couldn’t even cry over her son’s death

She was left in a daze, unaware of her surroundings and just… in her own world

Though, once it registered in her mind? How she would scream and cry at odd hours of the night, begging for Chuuya…

She would push away anyone who would try to comfort her, hit them and curse them out, only wanting Chuuya

Even though Chuuya’s ‘death’ had sunk in and she understood it, she’d scream at everyone to get away from her and that ‘only Chuuya can come close to her’

S*icide attempts became a regular thing

…the amount of times Chuuya’s dad was called during work hours and just rushed home to stop his wife from taking her life…

His sister lost sleep and stopped being the top student at school because of how difficult everything had become

Their younger sister was a bit better, considering she was small

But it still hurt, she’d call Chuuya out of habit, just to remember that he was never gonna answer her calling out to him

His mom’s situation got so bad that she was hospitalized for years

And even now that the entire Nakahara family has accepted Chuuya’s ‘death’

His mom hasn’t. She’s doing a lot better than before getting hospitalized but…

She always seems to be spaced out. She doesn’t smile or laugh, and even when she does… it seems forced and it’s only for a brief moment

His mom doesn’t talk much, not to anyone

She often spends her time talking to framed pictures of Chuuya. She still cries every now and then, but tries to hide it…

And honestly? I think that Chuuya has considered going back to his family

He’s coincidentally seen his sisters and made sure they got home safely from school/work while watching from afar… then return to his own work

It scares him to go back, not only because of him putting their lives on the line for being a mafia executive

But also because he’s supposed to be ‘dead’. That’s what his family believed and has learned to live with…

So if he were to show up at his childhood home, he’d make them confused

And he can’t even imagine how they would react if he were to go back

So Chuuya just watches over them from a distance…

But maybe, just maybe one day he’ll gather up the courage and listen to the voice in his head telling him to go back

That day won’t be anytime soon, not now. He can’t go back until he’s sure the time is right for him to do so.

Until then, Chuuya just prays that they’ll stay safe and alive…

That’s when he can return to his family, his home…

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bsdawgz · 11 months ago

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「 ✦ Cruel ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Dazai Osamu

a/n: follow-up from this fic, i hope i did ok! i really like writing pm dazai... also i wanna thank everyone who has followed me/liked/reblogged my posts. i really didn't expect to get any attention at all, so it means so much to me T_T and i will def get to writing ab the other characters soon~

genre: angst. so much of it. and the nasty.

content warning: f!reader. unrequited(-ish) feelings (but not rly). toxic ass relationship (like, RLY unhealthy), dependent relationship... i hope you don't find MC deplorable because personally i find her real af

MDNI! rough sex, choking, fingering, degradation both from dazai and self (bitch, slut), humiliation, trauma, bj (facefucking). dazai is rly rough with main character and not very communicative beforehand, but he checks up on character during. sex is consensual, but main character continues to force herself to do things she doesn't want to for the sake of wanting to please dazai (there is no pressure or coercion involved on dazai's part, to clear that up). if there's anything else you think i should add, please let me know.

summary: after failing to stop sleeping with the port mafia executive, dazai osamu, despite your unrequited feelings, you've come to terms with the fact that you can't bring yourself to leave him behind. but dazai's determined to show you there's nothing in him worth fighting for.

this place is all too familiar to you.

you’re bent over dazai’s desk and he’s towering over you from behind, pressed up against your body. there’s a haughty grin on his lips as he’s rucking up your skirt, grabbing your ass roughly and making you wonder when you began wearing short skirts all the time, if you’ve started doing it for the sake of easy access. after all, how many times in the past year that you’ve known this man has dazai actually taken the time to properly get you out of your clothes before fucking you, let alone gotten completely undressed for you himself? you could probably count it on one hand.

the thought makes you feel somewhat ashamed, knowing that you’re having routine sex with someone who won’t often do something as simple as strip naked for you. somehow the simple act of undressing feels all the more intimate, which makes you feel all the more distant from dazai, making him feel that much more removed in these fleeting moments you share. but of course, you don’t dare to mention it to him – not now, not ever. just let dazai’s hands roam where they wish, because more than anything, you want to please him. more than anything, you just want him to want you – whatever that might mean.

the last time you saw dazai, you had resolved to leave him for good, determining that your relationship was going nowhere. you were well-aware that dazai was only using you for sex, and that you were in the throes of an unrequited love with one of the most dangerous men in yokohama. but staving yourself off of a man like dazai, who could bring you in and out of heaven, was like trying to quit an addiction. you’ve never found yourself more attached to anyone in your life. it wasn’t long until you found yourself sleeping in his bed again. it was futile trying to fight it now.

“i said to look me in the eyes.” vicious words interrupt your thoughts, followed by an exasperated mutter of, “stupid bitch,” as you feel a few light slaps on your cheek. hands that once traveled up your skin so gently, caressing you and handling you like a fragile object, are now grabbing your neck and squeezing its sides, forcing you to meet his arrogant gaze. this is a different dazai than the one you know, a more cruel, more callous one. “ah, there’s my good girl,” he whispers coldly with a smirk, your jaw caught in his slender fingers as you now properly meet his gaze. “now, open your mouth for me… good. see how much prettier you are when you shut up and stop asking so many questions?”

he slips his thumb into your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before swiping your own saliva across your puckered lips. “good… suck my fingers like the slut you are,” dazai murmurs erotically into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck as he dips his fingers in and out of your mouth. “this is what you want, right? what you keep coming back for.”

his words are mean tonight, like he’s punishing you for trying to get too close to him. vengeful, almost. although it’s quite typical of him to get impatient and even indifferent, dazai’s not the type to bring this kind of demeanor into the bedroom… at least, he’s never shown this side of himself before. but tonight he is more than determined to bare it all to you, to show you what he is really made of – and teach you to stay away from him, for good.

as he looks into your big, trusting eyes, which have never gazed at him with malice, he bitterly reflects on his decision. the vastness of those eyes of yours have never held anything but pure intentions and righteousness. they represent everything that he is not… and they hold the same values that got odasaku killed. you are a mere civilian who threw herself into the port mafia’s radar by sleeping with one of its infamous executives. at this point, your name has snaked its way into the mouth of dazai’s underlings; his enemies have readied themselves at your door. dazai was selfish to think he can keep you all to himself, his precious little treasure.

this was bound to happen, anyway. better that it ends now.

before you fool yourself into thinking a man like him can amount to anything more than a killer.

before your hands get soiled with blood.

before you’re shot dead…

… and before he’s convinced himself that he has a right to any of this. a right to see you, a right to hold you, a right to one day love you.

that’s why tonight, he’ll push you to your limits until you cry out in pain and pleasure; and when you’ve had enough of him and tell him to stop, he’ll leave wordlessly and never return, so you’re left only with the memory of his callousness and utter disregard for you.

gazing into the expectant eyes that are staring into his, dazai hikes his hands up your shirt to palm your breasts only to be surprised to feel nothing but bare skin. “no bra? you really are a slut, huh?” he shakes his head with a dry laugh as he tugs your shirt over your head, discarding the article of clothing on the floor. “always so desperate to be fucked.” nipples hardening at the brush of his hand, you bite back a sinful moan as he teases you with fleeting touches that send pulses to your core. the sight of you so vulnerable in his arms makes him hard; you feel his erection pressing into your back as he plays with your nipples. before you know it, those beautiful fingers of his are reaching for where you want him most – between your thighs, pushing aside your panties and sliding between your slickness.

he gasps mockingly as if he’s surprised you’re wet for him, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips. his hands know you well, his fingers finding the spot that makes you feel the best and rubbing in agonizingly slow circles. you can’t help but let his name roll off your tongue and let him know who you belong to, a quiet prayer on your tongue. succumbing to his touch so easily feels almost like a sin, but if it’s dazai, you’d do it in a heartbeat every time. even if it meant going to hell for it.

intoxicated by his cologne and blinded by his touch, when you feel his lips traversing your neck, you’re thinking to yourself like a fool: yes, this is how it should be. dazai’s awfully gentle now. this is how it should always be. you’re starved for him, begging for him to want you.

begging for him to love you.

but this man will never love you.

because this man is the devil.

“get on your knees, pretty girl.” there are those sweet words of his – ‘pretty girl.’ that term of endearment that he’s whispered affectionately against against your neck when his arms are wrapped around your waist at night, when it’s too dark to head home and you find yourself tangled under the sheets until daytime – those words that have confused you, that have left your brain a muddled mess, that offered you a glimpse into the gentleness that could be. tonight, there’s not a trace of kindness in his unyielding voice – nothing to confuse for kindness. his hands are rough, reckless. tossing you over, he faces you with a look that’s condescending and rotten. “get on your knees, and remind me why i keep you around in the first place.”

you’ll take it.

you’ll take it all –

– even if he’s hitting the back of your throat and gripping your hair so tightly that you can barely breathe, that tears are welling in your eyes, that you’re choking on him. you can hardly keep up with his pace, hands clawing at the floor in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. you’re a distraught mess, lips swollen from his shoving himself into you, saliva dribbling down your chin, an undignified whore. but you’ll take it. you’ll take it all, if that’s what it takes to keep him even for a moment more. you’ll squash the feeling that this is so, so wrong, the awareness that he’s fucking you like an object, the knowledge that you’re nothing but a piece of meat to him.

if that’s what it takes to keep him, even if just for a little longer –

– you’ll take it all.

but when he sees those tear-stained eyes of yours, he just can’t bring himself to do it anymore. he pulls out of your mouth completely, leaving you coughing uncontrollably and desperately gasping for breath. a wave of guilt washes over him, knowing that he put you in this condition in the first place. “come here,” he says harshly, trying to keep up his façade as his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips. he tosses you onto the bed, the spring mattress squeaking under your weight, then you feel his body against yours from behind as he covers your eyes with one large hand until you see nothing but black. “don’t tell me you still like this?” he asks in a serious tone. he’s so close to you that you can hear his soft pants against your neck, feel the heat radiating from his skin; he must still be worn out from before.

but you say nothing, nothing at all, your lips sealed in a tight line.

he scoffs at your silence, his grip on your body loosening. “use your words. aren’t you going to tell me to stop?”

you turn to look at him, and your gaze finally meets his once more. your eyes are clouded with tears, your cheeks flushed, your lips trembling. but your eyes are unwavering. that grotesque look that he just can’t stand – those big eyes, still full of devotion, unconditional resolve. eyes that are full of nothing but righteousness. he’s the source of your pain, and yet you look at him with nothing but kindness. you look at him as though he can offer you some sort of salvation —

but this man can’t even save you from himself.

“i’m… i’m not.” your voice is meek, a sob escaping you.

you find your body shaking frantically, suddenly hyper-aware of your nakedness and the fact that dazai’s practically completely clothed.

he takes a seat next to you on the bed and wraps a blanket around you, deep brown irises staring into your eyes dubiously, as though he can’t believe a word that you’re saying. then, reaching out to cradle your face gently in his hand, he strokes your cheek with his thumb. his tender caress makes you sick to your stomach and you feel bile rising in your throat – you wish he would go back to fucking you senselessly and calling you names, if only just to make this cruel fantasy go away.

“don’t touch me like that anymore!” you suddenly blurt out of spite, shoving dazai away angrily. “don’t you know how confusing you’re being right now?” you cover your face in your hands like a child just to keep him from seeing you break down, as if you could possibly hide your stifled cries and the tears streaming down your stained cheeks.

“i see,” he says in a quiet voice, hesitating as he retracts his hand. there’s a grimace on his face as he withholds his words, resisting the urge to say something, anything, to ease the pain. but he knows there’s nothing he could say to take back all that’s been done. a tension hangs in the air, disrupted only by the sound of your shaky breath as you heave into the palms of your hands, pressed firmly over your mouth to silence your heartbroken cries. bending over in pain, there’s an empty pit in your chest as you crawl into his lap like a kicked-down dog. dazai makes no movement to get up, just lets you fall against him and hums softly to comfort you, stroking the tendrils of your hair like a wandering ghost.

when your tears finally subside, leaving nothing but your shattered memories, you glance up at him only to find he’s been gazing at you the whole time. on his face, there was a pained expression. something like regret for the past, or maybe even the future.

he looked as though he had been crying, too.

(c) BSDAWGZ Don't steal or plaigarize cos that's mean... and if you enjoyed the fic, please share! Remember, likes don't share my work, reblogs do! ^^~ Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!

#BSDAWGZ #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai smut #dazai osamu smut #dazai osamu fic #bsd angst #bungo stray dogs angst #dazai angst #dazai x reader #dazai x reader smut

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seaskate · 4 months ago

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Lupin Trio Collage

Playlist I made to go with the collage

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cvntydazai · 5 months ago

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underdog

when you and your boyfriend work for the port mafia, spending time together isn’t always going to be a top priority, especially when he’s an executive and you’re just an underdog.

pairing; chuuya nakahara x fem!reader

word count; 2.5k

content warning; heavy angst, fluff, cursing, lots of mentions of alcohol, bestfriend!dazai, miscommunication, unedited, slightly suggestive if you squint, chuuya is a sweetie pie who i love with my whole heart

a/n: my second post on here! i’m working on my masterlist and stuff right now but formatting that stuff can be so boring so it takes me forever.

you woke to the feeling of the cold morning breeze against your shivering body. the bed felt empty on chuuya’s side, as it always did. he usually left for work earlier than you did, claiming it was mori’s request that he be there at the crack of dawn but some days it felt like he did it by choice.

while chuuya was an executive under port mafia, you were simply an underdog, taking on miniscule tasks that don’t require the attention of any higher up. you tried to reason with your bitter feelings on the title, it was better to be out of the spotlight. so why did you want to be in it so badly?

your phone that laid on your bedside table rung, chuuya’s contact name stared back at you. with a sigh you reached for the phone and accepted your lover’s call. “hello?” you start, a moment of silence before chuuya speaks.

“hey, mori said there’s a job for you.” of course, mori wouldn’t waste time calling someone of such low importance so chuuya was tasked with it.

chuuya explained the details of the mission. it was simple, as they all were. you needed to collect missed payments from someone the port mafia worked with. you were also informed they weren’t hostile, that it was just to collect money.

“if you don’t feel comfortable going alone i can send akutagawa to go with you.” his concern was noticeable even through the phone.

“no, it’s fine. these kinds of jobs bore him anyways.” and they bore you too, but you never voice your complaints.

“okay, just.. be safe.” you agreed, ending the call immediately after.

you got ready in the time it took for the cab to arrive at your apartment. there was no small talk on the ride there, just the silent hum of lost radio signal on the stereo. this would take maybe an hour or two tops and then you would have nothing left on your schedule for the day. that’s how it typically went, no work of any importance.

“we’re here.” you thanked the driver and stepped out.

it took an hour and a half, only because the shop owner who owed money did not want to cough up the cash to pay his debts. eventually you had to threaten him, and he finally agreed to pay what he owed.

with the money in hand you headed for the port mafia in the same car you came here with. the same silence, same boredom. when you arrived there was no one to greet you so you decided to take the money up to mori yourself.

you passed akutagawa on the way there, he stopped you. “are you going to see mori?” you nodded, motioning to the suitcase that held the heaping amount of money. “just let me take it, i’ll let him know you went home after finishing the job.” he said, snatching the suitcase from you quicker than you could comprehend.

of course, you could never see the boss yourself. the higher ups had to always be the ones, why couldn’t it ever just be you delivering your work to your boss? it wasn’t fair, but you didn’t dare speak out.

“thanks, akutagawa.” he nodded, turning back to mori’s office.

when you reached the entrance again there was the same driver, you sat in the same seat.

“going home?” you thought about it for a second.

“no, take me to the nearest bar.” he complied without saying another word.

the nearest bar happened to be one you frequented, when you entered you were greeted by the bartender who was currently cleaning off glasses from previous customers. you took your usual spot at the center of the bar, ordering what you usually do. you drank in silence, playing with the hem of your coat while you thought to yourself.

the coat was chuuya’s gift to you after he noticed how much you loved wearing it. even after he handed it over to you, sometimes you would still put it on his side of the coat rack so it smelled like him when you wore it. he used to tease you about it, saying you could just start wearing his cologne too if you liked the way he smelled so much.

the coat that once kept you warm felt colder now. maybe it was because it had aged significantly since it was gifted to you and was now littered in holes, or maybe it was because you hadn’t properly seen chuuya in weeks and the coat doesn’t smell of him anymore.

he was always busy, always having missions to go on while you rotted away at home like the useless underdog you were. could being a higher up and risking your life be worth it, if it meant you could see him more?

“hey, stranger.” you knew that voice anywhere.

“hi, dazai.” you didn’t look up to meet his eyes, only feeling his presence sitting beside you.

even with dazai being in the agency now, he was still your closest friend. you still frequently saw him, usually to drink but sometimes to just talk. chuuya didn’t like it whatsoever but never made an effort to stop you. he would remind you that port mafia doesn’t meddle with the agency if it doesn’t have to, and you would reply with the same “i know” as you left.

he ordered a drink on his never ending tab and hummed a tune to himself. he was awfully quiet, so unlike him.

“you know i’m gonna ask you what’s wrong, right?” he broke the silence, and for the first time since he arrived you looked him in the eye. he saw the tears welling in your eyes and it hurt him to see you like that.

“is it chuuya? are you two fighting?” the only reason he could think of.

you let out a huff, taking the last swig of your drink.

“wish we were, at least we’d be talking to eachother.” you wiped your mouth, motioning to the bartender that you wanted another.

you could see the gears in dazai’s brain working in real time, deciphering your words like a case. you knew he would figure it out eventually, but all you needed right now was comfort so you gave into his curiosity.

“i want to ask for a job promotion, i’m so tired of being seen as a weakling in the port mafia.” you admitted, pulling your newly filled drink closer to you.

dazai didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised, his eyes held sympathy for you, you hated it. he cleared his throat, as if he was about to tell you the world was ending right then and there.

it felt like it was, you were losing your one and only love to a merciless job and no one in the port mafia took you seriously no matter how hard you tried to prove to them you could get work done.

“correct me if i’m wrong but.. is this really about wanting to move up in the mafia? or is it about wanting to see chuuya more?” he solved the case, just like that.

you didn’t bite back your tears any longer, letting them fall into your crossed arms as you sniffled. you were just about to take another gulp of your drink but dazai stopped you, giving you a knowing look, you didn’t handle your booze well and he knew it.

the alcohol wouldn’t solve your problems but maybe it would dull the pain in your heart. ignoring dazai’s pleading look, you drank again. nothing mattered right now, not even the hangover you’d feel in the morning.

dazai knew he couldn’t stop you, but at least he could watch you to make sure you were safe.

a couple of hours later and a few drinks down you were feeling the effects in full, your tears morphed into giggles and you felt on cloud nine. dazai had a few drinks in him as well, but not nearly as many as you. continuing to ignore his looks of concern you tried your hand at the dart board mounted on the wall ahead of you.

you were just about to take your shot when dazai’s ringing phone startled you.

“hey! i would’ve gotten it that time!” you shouted, slurring your words.

dazai rolled his eyes and accepted said call, already knowing who was on the other end without having to check the caller id.

“where is she?” chuuya’s harsh voice rang through the phone.

“the bar next to the port mafia building.” he replied calmly, ignoring the slew of curses from chuuya.

“i’ll be there in a second, make sure she doesn’t have anymore to drink.”

when chuuya arrived at the bar he walked onto the scene of you fighting dazai for a bottle of wine and the bartender watching with an unreadable expression. you wouldn’t have even noticed he was there if dazai didn’t greet him.

“what are you doing here?” you frowned, snatching the bottle of wine at last now that dazai was distracted.

“taking you home, put down the bottle.” he could tell you were shitfaced just by looking at you.

“i’ll go with you, but i’m taking the wine.” you reasoned, knowing chuuya wouldn’t be leaving this bar without you.

he agreed, sighing whilst digging in his pockets for his wallet. he slammed a wad of cash onto the counter, apologizing to the poor bartender who had to deal with two idiots the entire evening.

“i’m sorry about that, this should be enough to cover both of their tabs and the bottle of wine.” the bartender offered a smile of gratitude and wished chuuya a good night.

dazai followed the two of you out of the bar, hands stuffed deep in his pant pockets.

“do you.. need a ride?” chuuya asked, already regretting the simple act of kindness. you stood at his side, eyes trained at your feet with your bottle of wine tucked tightly under your shoulder.

“nah, i’ve got someone coming. i’ll see you around.” he took his leave, and chuuya quickly ushered you in his car.

the car ride home was silent, the only thing to be heard was your fiddling fingers. you wanted to say something, anything to break the tension but your brain felt like a melting pot of emotions. you were mad, yet you also yearned for him.

“i-“ you began, he stopped you.

“not right now, we can talk when i’m not driving.” if that wasn’t a dead giveaway that he was angry you didn’t know what was.

it was quiet the entire way back to your shared apartment. the anxiety bubbling inside you helped you sober up, you were still long gone. despite his obvious frustration, he still opened the car door for you and guided you up the steps into your home.

the second the door shut his mouth was moving.

“why didn’t you tell me you were going to be gone? do you have any idea how worried i was?” his voice raised and fired up, it sparked your own rage.

“well, i’m sorry i want to do something other than be your housewife.” a confused grunt left chuuya’s lips, never had he thought of you as his housewife.

his confusion only made you more upset, he truly had no idea how you felt.

“i’m sick of being here, never having anything to do.” you complained, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass for your wine.

chuuya followed you, a stern expression on his face as he quietly listened. he could see you were hurt in a way he desperately wanted to understand, but hearing you say you were sick of being home was like a bullet to the chest. this place was supposed to be a safe place for the both of you, had he done anything to give you the impression of otherwise?

“and no one in the mafia thinks i’m useful, not even you.” you mumbled, fumbling with cork screw that sealed the wine shut.

chuuya suddenly grabbed the bottle from your hand, now looking you dead in the eye. the grip on the bottle made the veins in his hand bulge, you weren’t sure how the glass hadn’t shattered from the force.

“who said that?” he asked, an unnerving calmness in his voice that worried you.

“said what?” you gulped, no longer worried about your wine.

“said you were useless.” silence on your part.

“no.. no one’s said it but i can feel their judgement. hell, even akutagawa thinks i’m useless.”

“akutagawa thinks everyone is useless.” he argues.

“not you, he respects you.” chuuya releases his hold on the wine, instead occupying his hands around your waist.

his touch is gentle, almost cooling against your flushed skin. he leans his head into your neck, breathing in your scent which you’re sure smells of a mixture of all the alcohol you’ve consumed. “and.. it’s not just that i want to be recognized more in the port mafia. i also want to see you more.”

your confession makes him smile, you can feel his lips curving upwards on your neck.

“is that was this is about? you miss me?” you’re half tempted to push him off of you now, his ego undoubtedly stroked. “why didn’t you just say that, sweetheart.”

“it’s hard sometimes, you’re always busy and i barely see you.” he hums in agreement, pressing light kisses your shoulders.

it was hard to stay mad at him for too long when this was his way of apologizing, drowning you in physical affection that melts not only your heart but your body.

“well, if you really don’t like where you stand in the port mafia right now, I'll talk to mori. no one thinks you’re useless, hell i thought you liked staying out of the dirty business.” the mafia itself was all dirty business, but you understood what the meaning was in this context. “and i’ll try my hardest to be home more, i never mean to be gone so long darlin’, work is just hectic sometimes.”

you turned to look at him, his beautiful eyes looking at you with all the softness in the world. “i know, i’m so sorry i made a big deal out of all of this. i just felt so lost.”

he understood, “don’t be sorry, you were hurting and i should have seen it. i’m sorry, i love you more than anything.”

“it’s okay, but i think that booze is catching up to me, i need to sit down now.” with a soft laugh he guided you to your shared couch.

the rest of the night he spent pampering you, making you two dinner and putting on a movie for you to watch in the living room. you laid there in peace, your head resting against his chest while his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

for the first time in weeks, when you fell asleep beside him you woke to him in the morning.

#bsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya x reader fluff #chuuya x reader angst #bsd x reader angst #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara x you #bsd fluff #bsd angst #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs angst

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