#so the way Dazai is supposed to look

[sableeira]

or he looks like the protagonist of a harem anime… which checks out

Dazai has the most basic average anime character hair in all of bsd. But how is it so hard to get his hair to look right?!? If one streak is only a bit off he suddenly looks like every other Isekai protagonist, like asumu dazai from hit-isekai “I killed myself and now I’m reborn to suffer through another life”

[lyacinthus]

blep :b

[lady-shadow-and-darkness]

Whenever I see people saying that Dazai's an asshole and doesn't care about anyone I laugh. Guess he did a good job of fooling you buddy.

[monstersqueen]

Each one of these great achievements came to fruition only because of the new boss Dazai’s extraordinary talents. Rumor had it he hadn’t even slept a day ever since taking over from Mori four years ago.

he probably hasn't

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma

content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public

It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.

He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.

[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”

CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.

He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.

“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”

Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.

He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.

[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”

FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.

He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.

“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”

It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.

While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.

“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”

The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.

When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.

“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”

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[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 TELLING THEM THEY'RE PRETTY!

FEATURING: dazai osamu, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol

SUMMARY: telling the bsd boys that they're pretty! (wordcount: 3.5k; sfw; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i had cute dividers but this won't show up in the tags if use them D: ! i had sooo much fun with this! i hope you guys enjoy! :D

DAZAI OSAMU

You can’t seem to drag your gaze away from him. 

As a long day of work comes to an end, you rest your head on your arms and lean on your desk. Kunikida is still tapping furiously away at his computer, Tanizaki and Naomi are whispering about something together, Ranpo is sorting through his candy, and Atsushi and Kyouka are looking through files. But your eyes are tracing over Dazai Osamu as he leans back in his chair, lazily spinning and bobbing his head to the music he’s listening to. 

The setting sun casts an ethereal glow over him, his lips idly turned up and his lashes brushing his cheeks as rests his eyes waiting for the day to end. Dazai Osamu is pretty—you’ve always acknowledged that—but there’s something about the peace of this moment, the domesticity of the office and the ambience of the lighting that has you utterly enraptured.

He looks so at ease, and Dazai Osamu is never at ease. Even when he throws up that clownlike mask of his and spends his day entertaining under the guise of joy and humor, you can always see the strain in the corner of his eyes and lips. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible really—if you were anyone else, you’d miss it, but you’re not anyone else, much to his displeasure, because you know he hates how easily you can see right through him.

After a few minutes, Dazai peeks his eyes open—and you’re almost breathless, because his eyes are like melted honey beneath the sunset, warm and gentle, glittering with amusement. You think you can stare at him forever and never tire of it.

He rolls his chair closer to you, resting his forearms on your desk so that your arms are brushing and laying his head down on them so that his face is mere inches from yours, matching your position. There's a smile on his lips, soft and teasing as he whispers, "You've been staring at me for five minutes."

"Mhm," you agree, voice just as quiet as if to not disturb the tranquility of the office. You can feel his breath light against your face from the proximity he's laying at and you can smell peppermint on his breath from the candy you’d seen him swipe from Ranpo’s desk earlier when the other man had gone to speak to Fukuzawa.

“Is there something on my face?” he asks playfully, dark eyes glimmering as he waits for your response.

You can tease him back and say yes, as you usually do and is probably what he expects—and you fully intend to do just that but the words that leave your lips are not that. 

“You just look really pretty today,” you say softly, watching as his eyes widen just a bit at your words, pink dusting his cheeks. 

His lips part to say something but no words leave them. He opens and closes them a few times and you marvel because Dazai must know that he’s pretty from all of the attention he gets from women, so you don’t understand why he’s so thrown off hearing you voice it out loud. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him genuinely speechless before now.

“So you don’t think i’m pretty every other day?” Dazai pushes his bottom lip out into an over-exaggerated pout, recovering swiftly from your words, though you expected nothing less from him. But you can’t help but note that his cheeks are still a bit pink and there’s something indecipherable in his eyes.

“Prettier than usual,” you amend and watch as the flush on his cheeks darkens and he instead resorts to completely burying his face in his arms with a frustrated groan.

“I am supposed to be the flirt, bella,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms as he hides his face from your view. He cannot hide the way his ears have gone bright red, and you have half a mind to reach out and tug at them

You lift your hand to your lips to hide the giggle that rises to your lips, scooching your chair a bit closer so you can knock your shoulder against his. 

“I’m not flirting,” you say. “Just stating a fact.”

He turns his head to the side, just enough so that he can give you a heavy side eye—you can only barely see the red hue coating his cheekbone. 

“Not mutually exclusive,” he says grumpily, and you lean down to press your lips against his now exposed forehead, smiling softly as his eyes instinctively flutter shut and his body relaxes as the touch.

Then, you receive a pencil to the side of your head. You yelp as your hand flies to where it had made contact with you, scowling at your assailant who is none other than Ranpo, smiling widely as he waves at you and then motions to Kunikida, who is red faced and staring at the two of you. You can’t tell if it’s in embarrassment or anger.

“Not during work hours,” he snaps, and you realize that he’s definitely embarrassed, so you share a short look with Dazai, who has regained that mischievous look in his eyes as he glances over at Kunikida and back at you.

Without saying a word, or giving any other sort of warning, he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a short and chaste kiss, but his lips are soft and taste of candy, and you think you might be able to kiss them forever if you get the chance.

Now you’re the one flustered, you can feel heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at Dazai, who is evidently thoroughly pleased to not be the one uncomposed if the unscrupulous grin on his lips has anything to say about it.

He tosses you a wink before rolling his chair back over to his desk, animatedly complaining about Ranpo and Kunikida being lonely and bitter and getting in the way of Dazai’s chance at true love because of it—you only roll your eyes at his dramatics, as you usually do when Dazai goes off on tangents, but it’s with much more fondness this time. 

•••

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

You are not listening to a single word that he’s saying. 

It’s a dangerous situation to be in with Fyodor Dostoevsky, you’re sure he’s noticed by now and he will be petty enough to finish his brief about his plans and your involvement and then ask you to repeat what he said, but you just can’t focus. 

He tied his hair back, you note, still quite a bit awed by the sight. There are two locks framing his face and his bangs are falling between his eyes, but the rest of his hair, which has grown a bit long in the weeks that he’s been ardently preparing for the final stages of his plan, is pulled back into a lax bun. 

He looks so casual, and Fyodor Dostoevsky never looks casual. He’s dressed in a turtleneck and loose pants as he leans back in his chair. There’s a folder resting on his lap that he’s idly flipping through and he keeps glancing up at you occasionally, pale lips flat and violet eyes disapproving, but you just nod along to his words even though you know that he knows that you’re not paying attention. 

And you think, distantly, that you probably should be paying attention because he’s talking about your upcoming mission and what you should expect from it but you figure you’ll be fine—it’s a simple infiltration mission, nothing to worry about. And you’d much rather prefer to appreciate Fyodor’s rare repose than to listen him droll on about boring topics. 

Sometimes, you think if he just kept his mouth shut all the time, he’d be perfect. But you think you’d miss his sharp-witted comments and the lengthy debates the two of you have after a few glasses of wine.

He looks extra pretty tonight, even beyond the casual hairstyle and clothes and his uncharacteristically relaxed demeanor, and you think it’s because of the way the flames of the fireplace are casting an enchanting orange and red glow over his face. It makes the violets of his eyes burn alive in a way that they usually don’t, you’re far too used to the glacial visage they take whenever he puts his attention on someone. Every time he glances up at you, you swear that you can get lost in them.

“… And you are not listening to a word that I am saying, are you?” 

Fyodor is giving you the heaviest side eye as he finally calls you out, expression unamused. His brows are furrowed and his pale skin is taut with thinly veiled irritation.

“Of course, I am,” you dismiss, waving your hand. “Infiltration mission, detective agency, get close to the tiger boy.”

Fyodor looks distinctly unimpressed by your words, brows deepening—you figure you must have spoken wrongly, you probably shouldn’t have been so indifferent, and you bite back a sigh before reaching forward to press two fingers between Fyodor’s eyebrows, as if to forcibly smooth away his annoyance.

He blinks and draws back, out of reach of your arm, and then casts you an even more irritable look.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” he accuses. “This mission will be dangerous, you’ll be at risk of being exposed every moment you are in the agency and if you are exposed-“

“Your plans will be ruined,” you finish, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes. “I kno-“

“You could be killed,” Fyodor corrected, voice cold and sharp, and you look back over to him. He looks unusually intense, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the appearance that the flames of the fireplace are giving him as they flicker dangerously across his face or if it’s because he’s that displeased with you being distracted. Either way, you find your mind drifting again because wow. “Dazai Osamu is not a man to be taken lightly. When he manages to figure out who you are and what you’re doing, we will need an immediate extraction plan.”

“Careful, Fyodor,” you drawl, watching as his violet eyes narrow briefly, “almost sounds like you care.”

Fyodor’s lips twist but he doesn’t respond. You raise your eyebrows, he looks away. Your eyes shoot open.

“You have a bigger role to play,” Fyodor finally says, but he’s no longer looking at you. “You cannot be killed yet.”

“Yet,” you repeat, amused. Fyodor’s jaw tightens, he doesn’t look at you, his eyes are trained on the fireplace to the side of the two of you and you can vaguely see the flames reflecting in his eyes, burning ardently against the familiar violet.

You lean forward again, shifting off of the couch to sit on the coffee table between the two of you so you can reach him. You reach forward to brush your knuckles against his cheek—he doesn’t move away this time, but his eyes cut to the side to watch you carefully.

You don’t say anything for a moment, absently tucking one of the locks of hair framing his face behind his ear. His hair is soft, freshly washed—for once—it smells faintly of lavender and vanilla and you wonder if he stole your conditioner.

“You look very pretty tonight, Fyodor,” you say quietly, and then smile. “It’s hard to focus when you look like this.”

The expression Fyodor directs toward you is extraordinarily blank, except for the faintest specks of pink that glare compared to the pallor of his face. 

He shakes his head, looking away from you yet again. 

“… You cause me much suffering,” he murmurs, and somehow, you know that might be the closest you might get to an admission of love from Fyodor Dostoevsky.

You smile to yourself. “And you to I,” you say, voice a bit teasing, and then you add, “Now, can you tell me again what to look out for?”

The moment is ruined. Fyodor’s eye twitches and he’s giving you that unamused look again, and you think having him repeat himself might be a mistake because now you’re even more distracted, but Fyodor sighs and starts on his lecture again so you force yourself to listen.

It takes about three minutes for him to release a sigh of utter suffering when he realizes that your eyes have glazed over yet again. 

•••

NIKOLAI GOGOL

Nikolai has a wild sort of beauty about him. He’s unpredictable and dangerous, and it’s widely apparent in his frenzied laughter and chaotic behavior. His eye glitters and his teeth gleam sharply beneath the glow of the moonlight as he waves his hands around, animatedly describing to you all of the details of the things he’s been doing while you were away. 

Fyodor’s masterplan has involved Nikolai apparently taken upon an infiltration role at the ministry of defense—you think it’s a bold move for Fyodor to use Nikolai for such a tenuous mission, but he’s apparently been having the time of his life with it. Though he thinks his boss is deplorable and one of his coworkers has evidently pissed him off beyond repair, because now he’s telling you about how he’s been ‘pranking’ the man in righteous vengeance. 

You think Nikolai’s idea of pranking varies from yours, because you’re pretty sure him using his ability to break into the man’s house constitutes a crime not a prank. But you don’t have it in you to make that distinction when he’s so excitedly telling you about how every day he’s been going into his house to move around all of his stuff and hide some of his belongings to make the man squirm. He’s succeeding outstandingly in his ambition, if the videos he’s waving in front of you have anything to say about it. 

You watch as he frantically scrolls to the next video—“this one is the best,” he claims, as he has for every video thus far. You watch with an amused smile as his dark-haired coworker steps into his apartment and nearly starts crying when he realizes that all of his stuff has been moved again, scrambling for his phone to call the police, who have—according to Nikolai—apparently already told him multiple times that there’s nothing they can do about it. The video is shaking wildly, as if the person filming can barely hold the camera straight, and you’re convinced that’s exactly what it is because you can hear Nikolai’s muffled laughter coming from recording.

Nikolai naturally finds it much funnier than you do, half-way keeling over as he wheezes, his laughter shattering the peaceful night. The two of you are sitting at a park near the apartment that Fyodor had leased for you for the duration of the Yokohama operation. The moon is high in the sky, casting a bewitching glow over the lake in front of you and there’s a chill in the air—it’s a nice night all around, you think there will probably some frost dusting the grass in the morning but the cold hardly bothers you now with Nikolai pressed to your side as he laughs himself into a near-coughing fit over his harassment of his coworker. 

“Why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai suddenly complains loudly, scowling at you, but even then he keeps having to bite back residual laughter whenever he glances back down at his phone. “It’s funny.”

“It is funny,” you agree. Nikolai gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you. “It is.”

“Then why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai accuses doubtfully, and then adds, even more accusatory, “You hate me.”

You’re not sure why you aren’t laughing, honestly. Usually you’d be burying your face into his shoulder trying to smother your snickers, because even though you might not entirely agree with Nikolai’s idea of a prank, you can still find some humor in it. Because it is kind of funny. Kind of. 

But then you realize that you’re probably not laughing because you’ve been spending most of the night admiring Nikolai rather than listening to him prattle on about his escapades and watching his poorly recorded videos, so you can’t fully appreciate the humor in the videos. With his cheeks flushed from copious amounts of laughter and his eyes glowing with excitement, you think he’s very pretty tonight—Nikolai is always pretty, but the angle at which he’s sitting leaves the moon haloing behind his head, and maybe it’s just because you’ve missed him the past few weeks when you’ve been abroad dealing with a territory dispute with Tolstoy, but you think there’s something special about tonight. 

“I don’t hate you. I guess I’ve been too busy admiring you,” you finally say, a playful smile on your lips as you tilt your head to the side to look at him. “You look pretty tonight.”

Nikolai blinks, eyes wide and owlish as he processes your words. The longer he goes unresponsive, you acknowledge that a quiet Nikolai is far more unnerving than a loud and erratic Nikolai, you’d expected a more… theatrical response to your comment. A swish of his cape, him leaping to his feet with a twirl and an agreement, even just a wild laugh; instead, he looks away abruptly. He doesn’t even just look away, he physically turns his whole body away from you. 

You blink.

“Nikolai?” you ask, a bit astonished when he literally ignores you. You lean forward, trying to get a look at his face, but then he swivels around even more and your lips part in shock. “Nikolai.”

You’re only met with a face full of his soft white hair, impeccably braided, as per usual—you have half a mind to tug at it hard to try to get a response from him, but you aren’t in the mood for the lewd comment that would likely spill from his lips after. 

“Koly-“

“Poor me, poor me,” Nikolai suddenly cries loudly, “The little koshenya mocks me when all I do is try to make her laugh. Poor me, poor me.”

His hand flies to his face, melodramatic as he bemoans your alleged cruelty. You stare at him, mind trying to piece together what exactly is happening—Nikolai is always hard to predict, but you feel like this is a bit strange even for him, and that’s saying something. 

“… What?” you start to ask but Nikolai has thrown himself into a loud and theatrical tirade about how he doesn’t deserve such injustice and how he was only trying to make you laugh, and how it’s so, so cold-hearted of you to taunt him when this is the first time the two of you have seen each other in weeks. 

Nikolai is impossible to bargain with when he gets like this, so you only sigh and tilt your head up to the sky, his words flying in one ear and out the other as you wait for him to settle down on his own. 

Instead, you swear the world is against you because rather than settling down, he becomes increasingly more noisy and distressed, and his accusations become even more asinine. Now, he’s saying that you’ve always had it out for him and how you weren’t laughing at his jokes because you hate him and want to report him to the police and how he should tell Dostoy about your betrayal, or better yet, he should stuff you in his cloak and leave you there?

You side-eye Nikolai heavily as he continues on, slightly alarmed, but brush off the casual threat as just Nikolai being Nikolai. You don’t know how to shut him up, you think you might be out here all night listening to him, and now you’re the one bemoaning your fate because how did a simple compliment turn into this. 

Finally, an idea strikes. 

You brace yourself, questioning your sanity and your entire existence before you interrupt him with a loud, “Quiz time!”

Nikolai goes silent instantly, head snapping toward you, eye even wider than before. 

You think you’ve hit an all time low as you say, “Was I trying to mock you before?” Nikolai opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can. “What’s that you say? I wasn’t? Ding ding! We’ve gotta winner!” 

You think Nikolai might be having an internal crisis. He’s staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time in his life—his lips are parted, his eye void of the usual mischief dancing in it. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what. 

You let out a long breath as you go to speak up again, but before you can, his eye is glittering again, sharp and dangerous, and his lips are curving up into a slow smile. 

Nikolai inhales and then he takes a complete one-eighty as he bursts into loud cackles and says, “Ahahaha! I knew you loved me!” as if he wasn’t just lamenting your irrational hatred for him moments before.

Your eye twitches. He begins a second tirade, this one far more embarrassing for you than the last. 

You regret everything.

[blackwaves]

#btw this is why dazai sets him on atsushi #because atsushi is the reverse #he is entirely self preservation #he has trouble moving forward and he freezes #when dazai says “he's better than you” #that's what he means #he's saying see that? do you see that cowering weepy cat? that is the better extreme. #and then he keeps bringing them together because they need each other #atsushi needs akutagawa to be brave enough to act #and akutagawa needs to see what a will to live looks like from someone capable of absorbing the brunt of the fight #also as a reminder. akutagawa is not real. he is a seinen anime character with superpowers. #anime is a stylistic and exaggerated medium #do not work yourself up by dragging them from their context to frame their behavior as if theyre irl high school aged students #the pencil drawings are not hurting each other and cartoon violence is not 1:1 with real violence (tags from OP)

pm!dazai didn't abuse akutagawa. he reacted proportionately to the threat akutagawa posed to himself.

when dazai smacks akutagawa around in canon, they're running drills. dazai is not hitting him in misdirected anger or because he is venting his own suffering on him. akutagawa does not instinctually protect himself. in his fits of hyperviolence, he seeks to kill and be killed, and nearly is in beast, and in the course of his initial pursuit of atsushi.

he does not have the reflex or will or instinct to defend himself, and he is slow because he is having to consciously process the effort. his automatic reflex is to attack, but that will not stop him from being shot or overwhelmed or blindsided.

what they are doing in those scenes, what dazai is uniquely able to practice with him since rashomon can't pierce him, is not unlike cognitive behavioral therapy interventions. akutagawa is wired such that when he is triggered, he develops tunnel vision, pressing forward relentlessly without registering danger or responding to negative stimuli. this is a pattern developed from when he deemed dearh inevitable, and one which is liable to get him killed regardless of whether he has a reason to live.

he needs to consciously retrain his instinctual response, and he has to consciously and consistently reinforce it against his existing, much quicker instinct. he has to do it before he has the conviction or will to do it. and he has to do it over and over again, even when it isn't immediately life or death, because the instinct is self reinforcing, and the pattern he is trying to supplant it with is not yet.

skills are part of their users' framework for responding to their environment. jun'ichiro is anxious, but he can hide within light snow. kunikida has his notebook, but it has rigid limitations that he adapts to, similarly to how he works within the limitations of reality to keep from becoming consumed by his ideals.

akutagawa's skill, meanwhile, is wildly fucking disproportionate to akutagawa's constitution which is a problem when akutagawa wont react defensively. akutagawa is canonically frail, chronically ill, thin, and short (he's 5'8", but asagiri insists he's itty bitty every time he describes him in prose). rashomon, meanwhile, is monstrously powerful and hungry. it lends a false sense of untouchable violence when akutagawa himself is weak, and also is just really difficult to focus and control such that using it brings akutagawa into coughing fits. rashomon is also terrifying even in visage; it invites others to react with violence proportionate to their terror against the spectre of rashomon — but akutagawa is small, sick, and human; what is proportionate to rashomon is IMMENSE overkill if aimed at akutagawa. which is especially egregious because akutagawa will let them.

in other words, when dazai meets akutagawa, rashomon is as dangerous to its user as to anyone else. skills should not get their users killed. dazai is right. it's a shit skill.

akutagawa is vulnerable and self-destructive, and he and dazai are working to rewire his instinctual evaluation of his stakes. even when dazai punches akutagawa after akutagawa kills the mimic soldier, it's not a random act of violence or unregulated anger. the mimic soldier was not going to lead them to gide, there was no reality where they restrained him before he bit his cyanide, and he'd attacked dazai. but instead of reacting defensively at the opportunity, akutagawa fell to the former instinct, leaving himself wide open.

dazai reacts how he does because:

they are supplanting an ingrained instinct that is self reinforcing, the correction needs to be consistent to change the pattern and the former instinct needs to be discouraged with the same severity as the threat it poses;

by punching akutagawa first, dazai gave him notice and time to consciously muster the defense reaction theyre working on;

akutagawa needs to build an association between the defensive reaction and the triggering stimulus for this to work;

the context in which this happens is the exact sort of threat that rashomon is then ill equipped to handle— gide can see into the future, like oda, and mimic are military trained gunmen.

when dazai tells akutagawa that he couldn't ever defeat oda, he's not taunting him, he's right. akutagawa is relying on swift killing blows, but against someone who can see into the future, akutagawa is as vulnerable as a baby. and then, shortly after, that's what happens: gide wrecks his shit and is about to murder him dead when oda swoops in to grab dazai's dumb horrible baby kouhai who's trying to kill himself with the ambitious gusto of a horse.

as long as akutagawa fails to seek self-preservation, he is remarkably vulnerable. he's weak, and he's going to get himself killed. dazai doesn't coddle him about it for the same reason fukuzawa slaps ranpo for scampering into a police car with a murderer. you dont get praise for self endangerment.

dazai is not going to affirm a version of akutagawa that is trying to kill the boy dazai promised to save.

***

(also, this explains why akutagawa hates taking baths and being without his coat. dazai tried to instill in akutagawa the vigilance to register danger. in his absence, akutagawa strove to be worthy of demanding his approval by diligently practicing. but he's dazai's dumb baby kouhai who. takes things too far lmao.)

[skulls-and-wishbones]

I’ve been cross referencing the day I picked up Dazai manga panels and how he’s described in the fifteen light novel and I’m going crazy.

In the light novel he’s described as lanky a lot, and he’s definitely supposed to be a very skinny stereotypical teenage boy with messy hair and stuff. But when you look at the day I picked up Dazai he’s also just so

small

Like look at the baby. He’s so little. Obviously we all know that he’s very unhealthy in the mafia and in general. But it is hurting me in ways I cannot explain to see it so plainly.

also he’s supposed to be sixteen in the day I picked up Dazai - which means that he’s probably been getting even worse as he gets older. Considering he’s consistently described as tall and menacing in the narration and by other characters. At 16 he’s probably 100 lbs soaking wet.

(it’s also sort of funny that Mori is so scared of him. I think if you kicked him hard enough all of his bones would break.)

[calmlb]

It’s been clear that the Tanizakis aren’t siblings from the very beginning

here’s some evidence now that it’s been confirmed canon…

everyone who’s read irl Tanizaki’s book knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves

BUT just because the Tanizakis aren’t siblings doesn’t mean you can’t feel uncomfortable about them. if you feel uncomfortable, GOOD. that’s exactly what they want

the Tanizakis, Mori— they all use these disturbing ruses to disarm or distract people in order to protect themselves, or to accomplish their goals. this is a writing device that asagiri commonly employs as a way to parallel the irl literature (it’s actually ingenious)

there are 4 main indicators that have always made it clear to me that Junichiro & Naomi are not siblings:

1. most obviously— their character designs. Harukawa is extremely intentional with character designs, & she very intentionally made Naomi & Junichiro look nothing alike

their eye shapes are purposely different

their color palettes are contrasting

even their differing styles of clothing have meaning

this was all done so that the audience could PLAINLY see that they’re not related— so that WE know that they’re lying when they say they ARE related

2. how the people around them respond to their act.

the general reaction is “don’t question it”— which is exactly what they want. “be distracted by how uncomfortable you feel so that you look away from what we’re hiding” (this is likely a protective measure)

3. most importantly, this is meant to parallel irl Tanizaki’s book “Naomi,” where the main character Joji picks up Naomi to raise her into his ideal woman, but since she's so young (& a minor) they call each other cousins (Joji makes no sexual advances on young Naomi btw)

however, his plan backfires because when Naomi gets older & they get married, she flips the script on him & manipulates HIM so that he's under her thumb (which is why bsd Tanizaki is at a domineering Naomi's mercy). Joji let her have her way because of his masochistic tendencies

4. lastly is the emphasis that Asagiri and the Tanizakis themselves put on calling each other siblings.

over & over, it’s “my brother this” & “my sister that”

like they’re desperately trying to convince us that it’s true (“don’t let your lying eyes deceive you”)

here are just a few of many examples from the light novels…

again, if you’ve read “Naomi” you knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves

just like if you’ve read irl Mori’s works, it’s clear that bsd Mori isn’t a pedophile

just like if you’ve read No Longer Human you know that Dazai’s an unreliable narrator. he makes you think he’s a bad person bc he believes he’s a bad person, but those around him see him differently (btw this doesn’t mean he’s never done anything “bad,” though bsd isn’t about morality— but that’s another discussion)

anyway, i’m so excited for the Tanizakis backstory to be revealed so that we can better understand why they use this defense!!

also let this be a reminder to READ THE LITERATURE if you’re able to!! even reading synopses & analyses of the coordinating books makes bsd make much more sense 🥹

reminder that this how you’re supposed to react while reading bsd:

also, if you’re interested in a post explaining how Mori isn’t a pedo, i wrote this analysis on twt. OR you can read this document that one of my moots sent me (remember: analyzing a character does NOT mean you condone any actions they may or may not commit!)

[remlionheart]

NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡

♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚

[syoounn]

Them trying period pain simulator

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Characters: Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor, Sigma

Chuuya

Chuuya quirks a brow at your random suggestion. It's an odd question for sure. He blinks, raising his head from the crook of your neck.

“A period pain….Simulator��?” He echoes, confusion lacing his voice. He props himself up on his elbows to look at you a little more directly. “Why on earth would you want me to do that, Doll-“

As soon as you explain the purpose of the simulator, He laid there, relaxed, and let you set up this “pain simulator” thing.

"Fine.. I can take it even the highest level anyway.." He said, sounding cool and not fond of the idea.

Chuuya wasn’t exactly sure of what to expect, but he knew it was going to be bad. He just didn’t know HOW bad.

The moment the simulator turned on, Chuuya inhaled sharply, arching his back with a small groan of pain.

“F—-k-“ He cursed, his hands clenching into fists. The simulated pains weren’t at all gentle whatsoever.

Chuuya groaned again, shifting his body a bit to try and get more comfortable, but in return, the pain only intensified. Chuuya tried his best to muffle his pained noises by pressing his hands over his mouth, keeping his gaze up at the ceiling.

Chuuya then heard you giggling as he raised his head, looking at you. He gave you a look that was simultaneously annoyed but also kind of pitiful.

“Y’think this is funny? I feel like I’m dying, Doll.”

Chuuya let out a sound that was a strange mix between a pained whine and a scoff.

“Not fair,” He grumbles, shifting his body onto his side. “This thing is cranked up t-to 10 in intensity… ain’t ya’ gonna turn it down a bit..?”

"What do you mean? it's only level 4.." You said.

Chuuya froze, his body stiffening up a bit from hearing that. He had thought that the simulator was at the highest level of intensity the whole time, but now that he heard you say that… that made it worse.

“T-this is only f-fucking LEVEL 4?!” He asked, turning his head to look at you with an almost frightened expression.

A few minutes later and Chuuya was already a complete mess. He was clinging to you like a lifeline, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and his arms were wrapped tightly around your body. Chuuya was trying his best to suppress the whimpers and the sniffles of pain that he was letting out. He still had a bit of his stubborn dignity, but he was crumbling quickly, slowly losing the battle against trying to look tough.

"I thought you could do it until the highest level.." you said.

Chuuya groans against your skin,

“H-highest level my a—ass-“ He hissed, his voice shaky and breathless.

Chuuya continued to cling to you, pressing himself against you like a small, clingy puppy. His breathing was slowly returning to normal, but he still was trembling slightly. Perhaps this is the only way to get rid of his "coolness"

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Dazai

Dazai is just clinging to you as he usually does as he tilts his head up at you, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. He’s heard of those things before, though he isn’t exactly sure what it is. He’ll admit he is curious.

“A period pain simulator, huh? What, you wanna see if I can handle worse than you..?” He teases lightly, letting his arms fall from your body as he sits up, turning to face you.

"You think you can handle it?" You questioned.

He gives you a smirk, crossing his arms and nodding.

“Darling, I’m a grown man; I can handle anything life throws at me. I'm not saying I’m not gonna whine and complain while I’m at it, but I’m sure whatever that thing can dish out, I can handle~”

Dazai grins, his words full of confidence. He figures he’s dealt with far worse things in life, so something that’s just supposed to simulate period cramps shouldn’t be THAT bad… Right?

Dazai watches you in silence as you set the simulator up on him, still wearing a smile as he’s sure he’s able to withstand the feeling. But as soon as you turn it on, his entire demeanour changes.

His eyes widen as unexpected pain courses through his body, his jaw clenches at the uncomfortable feeling, and he lets out an exhale that sounds almost like a gasp.

The room filled with Dazai's sound of whimper and groan as you decided to turn it off.. Chuuya lets out a small sigh of relief as you turn off the simulator. He then shoots you a look, his cheeks a little flushed, and he looks rather needy looking.. is this his plan all along..?

You look at him with suspicious look he just smiles. "Ahh..~ I've been in pain.. don't i deserve to have a-..

You then turn on the simulator again. Dazai's eyes widen in surprise as the simulator simulates the cramps again. He lets out another pained groan, his hands clutching at the bed spread as the pain returns.

“Bella- turn it off- ah-“ He groaned, looking up at you through half lidded eyes.

Looks like you’ll have fun torturing him?

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Fyodor

I don't even know how you manage to convince him, and perhaps you can see this other side of him, but anyways... He snickers lightly, seemingly entertained by the idea. A smirk rests on his lips. "You want to see how well I can endure menstrual cramp simulations? How intriguing."

He takes in the sight of the device, his expression neutral, yet his gaze slightly narrowed, as if studying it closely. "I must admit, I am quite interested to see if this simulator will manage to mimic the pain experienced during a woman's menstrual cycle."

"Alright.. I'll start it up, " you said.

A slight wince appears on his face as the simulator begins its work, the first wave of discomfort making itself known. Nevertheless, he remains silent, determined not to let it affect him too, obviously. He does his best to maintain a neutral facade, though his eyes betray a hint of strain.

The simulator's simulated cramps get increasingly more intense with each passing moment, and Fyodor can't help but feel his determination beginning to crack. Sweat beads on his temple, and his pale face flushes with effort.

Yet, he continues to bite back any further sounds of discomfort, refusing to give it the satisfaction. He mutters through clenched teeth, "How much longer...?"

"It's only level 4..." You said.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, a hint of disbelief flickering in their depths. Level 4? He'd barely endured the first few waves of pain. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath. "How many more levels are there?"

"Like 10 levels.." you said.

Fyodor continues to suffer in silence, his eyes squeezed shut, and his teeth clenched tightly together, stubbornly refusing to give the simulator the satisfaction of breaking his composure. The pain is increasing, getting almost unbearable, and he struggles to keep the sounds of strained gasps from spilling past his lips, struggling to push through the immense discomfort that has taken hold of his body.

"Do you want it to stop..?" you asked.

He opens his mouth to respond, then stops, his pride warring with his sense of self-preservation. Admitting defeat is not exactly his style, but the pain is excruciating and nearly unbearable. After a few moments, he grits out, through clenched teeth, "Tch. Very well. Turn it off."

"How was it?" you asked.

He takes a moment to gather his composure, his breathing still somewhat shaky from the ordeal he'd just endured. He runs a hand through his damp hair and shakes head slightly, trying to clear it. When he finally responds, his voice is slightly strained, and he allows just a hint of pain to creep into it. "Quite... intense. I must admit, it was even worse than I'd imagined."

He exhales slowly and lets his gaze drift over to the device, still feeling the aftereffects of the pain. "You certainly chose quite the... interesting way to spend our time together, my dear."

A sly smile twists his lips. "And here I thought you simply desired to see me squirm in pain."

You then got surprised by that.. he totally caught you. He moves a hand to his stomach, rubbing it in a slow, almost comforting gesture. "However, despite the rather... unpleasant experience, I can not help but feel a sense of respect. You have certainly managed to find a way to surprise me, dear."

He chuckles softly, his voice regaining some of its usual calm. "Still, do not expect me to agree to such a thing again anytime soon. That... experience was not exactly how I'd planned to spend my evening."

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his smirk turning more cheeky. "Now, if you're in the mood for more pleasurable activities, I would be more than happy to oblige, my dear."

Well, i guess good luck to yourself tonight...

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Sigma

Sigma thought over it for a moment before responding to you.

“You want me to experience what it feels to have a period?” He asked now, looking at you with a pout, but not saying no.

"You don't have to if you don't want.." you said.

He thought over it again and then finally made a decision.

“Okay, fine, I’ll do it. Just for you, though.” He said before he removed the hair from his eyes and then looked at you with a shy and nervous expression.

You then prepared the simulator he sat down properly on the bed, mentally preparing himself for the pain he’s about the experience, not knowing what he’s gotten himself into.

The pain simulator then started to turn on and Sigma started to feel like something is tightening up inside of him, a burning sensation as the pain started to spread all over his abdomen, he gripped his shirt now as pained groans escaped his lips, looking at you again, wondering if this was worth it.

The pain just started to become worse and worse as time went by, Sigma now started to whimper out quietly, the pain growing more unbearable, he felt like crying now because of the pain, he just didn’t know how you could handle it, the pain and the cramps was awful.

You saw Sigma’s expression as you turned it off and felt bad.. as you spoke.

"Are you okay?"

When the simulation was turned off, Sigma just sat there for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before nodding at you.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine..” He said quietly in a shaky voice, still a bit in shock and surprised at how painful it is.

Yes it was unbelievable to him that you actually had to suffer from this every single month, dealing with the pain and the cramps, and yet somehow you can still act like your normal self, it just makes him want to do everything he can to make you feel better whenever you are going through your period, he just wanted to protect you from everything.

He looked back at you, watching the concern in your eyes. He just wanted to comfort you and make you feel better. He wanted to spoil you.

He then opened his arms to you, signalling for you to join him, which you did. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close in his embrace, pulling you to rest on his chest, nuzzling into you, letting out a quiet sigh as he did so.

As then these few days, you notice Sigma become affectionate and spoil you more, ahh.. he's such a sweetie.

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(Sorry for not updating for a long time! i promise I'll update more soon!!) ( =＾ω＾)

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

What if I...

—You make a tempting, unexpected offer; how are they going to react?

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Nikolai, Fyodor, Sigma, Jouno X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, mentions of giving blowjobs (whether it'll happen or not is up to you lol), unstablished relationship (you're just friends, but are you..?), rushed writing

Genre: Humor

Format: Drabble

Word Count: 1.6K

↳Osamu Dazai"

Listen y/n..." Dazai cooes at you. "I'm a little bit busy with... uh, work; so I don't think I'll be able to accompany you on this mission"

Shaking your head to the side with frustration, you bend a little on the desk, gazing into his Hazel eyes to show your desperation "Oh c'mon Dazai! You're not seriously gonna make me go to this tiresome mission by myself?! They're all politicians! It's gonna be boring as hell!"

The pile of paperwork on his desk are making you question your eyesight, but you know Dazai better than that. He probably saw it coming so he placed them there on purpose to prove his point.

...Not that it could exactly be called a "point".

"Listen..." Your voice is so low that only Dazai can hear it. "There must be some way for me to change your mind"

His expression doesn't change one bit, still looking through the documents for nothing, pretending to be occupied. "Sorry to burst your bubbles, but I really can't—"

"What if I suck your dick?"

Eyes shooting you a shocked gaze and hands staying still, it seems like he's completely lost interest in the paperwork. He's looking through your soul and the moment his lips start moving, you know you've won the battle.

"For... for real?" "Yes, for real"

The surprised face is all gone and instead, there's a totally new face now; a smug face of a man who's gonna team up with you for the mission and get a little prize in the end.

"So when do we leave?"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

"Listen Chuuya, with great looks comes great responsibility. There's a reason why you're this hot!"

The red-haired man looked away as an attempt to hide his flustered face, his voice still gravely. "Stop it y/n. I'm not gonna be your model for the photoshoot"

"Why not? You're the perfect choice!" "The answer's no! Get over it"

"Hmph! You're no fun" You crossed your arms and pouted as you leaned to the chair. You couldn't make heads or tails of it. Why was he so against being your model? You were just gonna take a few photos of him wearing casual clothes and maybe some light makeup. It was for your photography class and you were supposed to take a pic of somebody under the rays of sunset. With Chuuya's red hair and blue eyes, it would be a breath taking pic. He just looked so pretty under the sun.

As Chuuya took the bottle to sip from it, you found yourself desperate enough to give it one last shot.

"What if I suck your dick as a payment?"

And then the explosion happened. Chuuya's hand snapped, the bottle fell on the floor and drops of wine literally squirted out of his mouth. He was coughing so strongly that you rushed over and started hitting him in the back like he was some kind of ketchup bottle. His face was crimson red, but whether it was from choking or embarrassment, you couldn't really tell.

When he finally came down and caught his breath, he placed his hand on his chest and looked at you with eyes the same size as a baseball, meanwhile you looked at him miserably with the word "sorry" written all over your face.

"So... is that a yes?" "NO!"

Well, at least you nearly killed him.

↳Jouno Saigiku

"Ok I don't know why you're refusing. I'm just giving you the opportunity to make up for your mean attitude by doing something nice! You know, to go to heaven, like me and other nice people, Teccho for example"

Jouno was still expressionless. He merely sipped his cup of coffee and placed his hat on the table. "I appreciate the offer, but after a lifetime we definitely need a break from each other"

"Ugh you jerk! C'mon it's a piece of cake for you! You've arrested plenty of people before! You're smart, you're strong and I came to you for help which shows that I'm really desperate!"

Your relationship with Jouno was... questionable. He teased you, had a tendency to piss you off all the time, but somehow you were friends. The weirdest type of friendship that had ever existed, probably.

"I can see that. See I do wanna help you out, but I just love seeing the new you"

Shaking your head to the side, you leaned back to the couch. A hard case was given to you and you really didn't want to blow it up, but you needed help, and everyone else were busy. Except for your horrible friend here.

"Jouno, Jouno, Please..." You took his left, gloved hand. "I need you! I'll do anything in return! I'll team up with you and insult Teccho for a whole year! I'll write every one of your reports! I'll even suck your d—"

Jouno didn't hear your voice anymore. In fact, the only thing heard in the room was pure silence, and of course your heartbeat.

You were shocked.

He got his hand out of your grasp, placing it next to your head. His other hand found its way to your lips, softly caressing them. Meanwhile you didn't say a word, just stared at his handsome face and swallowed your saliva.

"Hypothetically, if I help you out, how far would you go to make it up to me?"

Forget about your friendship. You weren't that close anyway.

↳Fyodor Dostoevsky

"I'm going to go to my parents' with my boyfriend tonight"

"I thought you didn't have a boyfriend, dear" Fyodor tilted his head to the side to gaze at you.

"I don't! That's where you come in!"

Nikolai exchanged a look between your nervous expression and Fyodor's smile, and pouted. "Hey! Why didn't you ask me instead?"

"Yeah yeah, if I ever wanted to give them a heart attack you'd be the first person I'll go to" You sighed and looked back at Fyodor. "So? Would you please help me out?"

Fyodor was sitting next to you on a chair. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Ah... I'm not sure about that. Wouldn't it make our relationship awkward?"

"No! No not at all!" Your voice was rushed and shaky. "You see you're the perfect choice for this"

"Hmph!"

"Shut up Nikolai. I mean, you're tall, you know how to talk to people— in a satisfying way, ah, you know what I mean, you're handsome, you have very pretty hair, you have the most beautiful violet eyes I can stare at until forever..."

His brattish smirk made you shut up and give a few embarrassed coughs. Your flushed cheeks weren't exactly helping you out at the moment.

"Eh... So you're the best in many ways... Now, would you please help me out?"

Fyodor gave Nikolai-who was also smirking- a meaningful look, and his smirk got broader. "I will think about it"

"What's there to think about? You get to have a free dinner and also have a great time! My dad has the same taste in books as you! I'll even suck your dick at the end!"

You suddenly shut up and stared at the two men with eyes the same size as a racket ball. Now there was also two pare of knitted eyebrows along with the smirks. Nikolai's winking and muttering "Yeah baby" didn't help you loosen up at all.

Fyodor leaned closer until the phrase "personal space" lost its meaning, staring at you. His pretty eyes were sparkling, making it harder to steal your gaze from them. His voice was as gentle as the sea breeze, the perfect melody to caress your ears.

"So... I'll get to date the most beautiful girl in the world, spend a whole night with her and then get something afterwards?"

You were so drowned in your thoughts that you couldn't utter a single word. This moment was magical, making you wonder if he were going to seal your lips with his, totally forgetting about Nikolai's presence.

...Until he started talking.

"Do you guys want me to leave the room? Cause there's no way I'm doing that"

↳Nikolai Gogol

"...Which is why clowns are so fragile and have strong emotions!"

You shook your head with disappointment. "Yeah yeah, get it. But that doesn't answer my question"

"What was your question anyway?"

Ugh.

"Would you please babysit my cousins with me?"

"Hahaha! I remember now!" His face brightened with joy. "Well, no"

You leaned closer to him miserably. "Oh c'mon Kolya!"

"Sorry dove, I just don't get along with children. Not a fan"

"But they're triplets Kolya! I can't handle them on my own!" At this point you were literally begging. "Pretty please?"

"Triplets? Ha! Another reason for me to say no"

Well, that was it. You were going to be alone with your naughty cousins for four hours and then hand a burned house and probably only one of the boys back to your aunt because you lost the other two.

"Unless..."

Ah! There's still some hope left.

"You offer me something in return?"

Nikolai's face was dangerously close to yours. His smile was bright, but his intention didn't seem to be. Although that didn't scare you. It only made your body numb with excitement and through your clouded mind, you somehow put two and two together and blurted something out.

"Eh... What if.. What if I suck your di— Woah Nikolai what are you doing?"

A chuckle left his mouth as if something simple had happened, but this wasn't simple. He had just lifted you up and was carrying you bridal style to your bedroom.

"You took the hint all by yourself. How about that, my naughty dove?"

"K— Kolya! Where are you taking me?"

Your red cheeks only made his smile broader. "We're gonna get your clothes changed, go to your aunt's aweful house, babysit your horrible cousins, and then get ready for a night of fun"

↳Sigma

"So... How's the best manager in the world?"

Sigma's stare was still pointed at the documents. "I'm not planning a birthday party for your friend y/n"

"What are you talking about?" You smiled cunningly, lightly caressing his arm from the other side of the desk. "Can't I just compliment my incredible friend? Who happens to be an expert in planning and managing stuff?"

When you two first met, he used to get flustered by your flattering comments, but now Sigma's eyebrows only jumped in surprise. "You... can, but it won't change my mind"

"Pretty please?" Dropping the act, you got up from your seat and stood next to him, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. "I really need your help. I don't have a clue about this and you're the only one I know"

"I'm sorry y/n, but I'm caught up with work. You know that the casino is very busy this time of year, there's nothing I can do"

You sighed and sat on the chair again, desperately thinking about a way to convince him. What would make men do women a favor...

"What if I suck you dick?"

Sigma was still staring at the documents, which made you wonder if he had heard you, but his eyes were not the same. They were widened. He slowly lifted his head and looked at you like he was about to chop off his hand and stick it down his ass, and that made you finally realize it.

"Oh I forgot that you're three years old! I mean you haven't even hit puberty yet. Oops. My bad"

Yeah, Sigma needed new friends.

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[nakahras]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི heartbeat • osamu dazai

synopsis • a one time thing then becomes a sometimes thing and that becomes something entirely different when dazai is officially pardoned from his long list of crimes. his timing is impeccable considering it’s a special day for him.

warning • intentional lower case, fem!reader, cursing, use of pet name “bella”, oral (m -> f), fingering, dry humping, dazai cums in his pants womp womp

wc • 3.7k

a/n • happy late bday to the stinky!!!!!!! bday or not it’s my job to embarrass this man ^.^

it started as a one time thing, a mistake the two of you made one drunken night when dazai was a whole bottle in and you a few shots in. he used to have no problem drinking alone but that night, for some odd reason, he sought you out — he was craving your company in his intoxicated haze. with your usual restraint heavily impaired, nothing stopped you from spending the night sitting on top of dazai and making his eyes roll to the back of his head.

it was supposed to be a one time thing but isn’t that how these types of things always start?

the second time it happened was the very next day. something in dazai had clearly been stirred because he would not stop bothering you all day. usually he’d pick a time of day and use it to poke fun at you but eventually your indifference would make him grow bored and he moves on to the next person closest to him (i.e kunikida). however, he was persistent the next day and a lot more touchy. worst of all? everyone noticed. you were mortified when atsushi of all people leaned over the desk across from you and asked “did something happen” the pause to look between the two of you for dramatic effect was really the nail in the coffin, “…between you two?”

you wanted to throw up. curse atsushi and his weretiger animal instincts. you wanted to be careful. you continued to shut down the not-so-subtle advances from the brunette. but your composure was thinning — that paired with the images of the previous night’s activities flitting across your mind, was enough to cut your thread of restraint. of course dazai was so bothered he couldn’t make it back to the dorms. he had you in the electrical room that kunikida was prone to lock him in when the detective was being especially annoying. 

it happened again and again and again. and then several more times after that. you had a sort of schedule almost. a tell when dazai was going to visit you after work.

it was never more than sex.

and that’s what you’re trying to remind yourself of as you prepare to face dazai for the first time after being in prison for months then being pardoned for his crimes after assisting in bringing down fyodor dostoevsky and the decay of angels. you’re uncharacteristically nervous to see him. the freshly freed man has been in yokohama for a week now, you saw him on his second day here for a welcome back party the agency threw for him. 

he was… distant. 

that was the best way you could think to put it. he was seemingly normal with everyone else but with you, it was as if whatever you’d been doing before the doa incident had never taken place. it was unsettling to say the least.

or, at least it was unsettling, until today.

dazai “the best detective of all time” osamu: i’m coming over in five minutes. got anything strong?

you roll your eyes at the contact name that dazai had clearly entered himself, regardless of that, you let a fond and somewhat relieved smile tug at your lips.

you: you insult me. i always have your favorite stocked

dazai “the best detective of all time” osamu: a woman after my own heart (♡ヮ♡)

you don’t bother with a response. instead you ignore the odd ache in your chest and pull down a bottle of liquor that you normally would never touch but the nagging feeling in your gut needs to go. you pull out two shot glasses and pour some of the alcohol in each one. you don’t wait for the brunette and throw your head back to toss the amber liquid down to the back of your throat. you make sure to swallow it all in one go, hoping the after taste isn’t too strong. 

you refill the glass and you’re getting ready to take another shot when the doorbell rings.

what the fuck?

dazai never uses the bell? he doesn’t even knock most of the time, he just barges right in. you cautiously toe your way to the front door and lean up to peer through the peephole. you’re met with a mess of burnt caramel tresses. you’re quick to lean back and open the door. 

dazai’s attention clearly wandered while he had been waiting but the second you open the door he perks up and swivels around to present you with a singular yellow iris flower. you wonder where he found the gorgeous flower, they were hard to find this late in june, just barely no longer in bloom. 

the former fugitive thrusts the flower forward in your direction, his face is the perfect picture of composed, eyes lidded and smile relaxed. the way his free hand twitches at his side gives him away though. you make sure your eyes don’t linger on it for too long, dazai would know and would sink back into himself. instead you flit your gaze back to the flower and let a your mouth curve up in a shining smile.

“this wasn’t easy to come by, bella, but the search was worth it now that i get to see that stunning smile of yours.” the brunette bows in a way that’s reminiscent of a young lord courting a young lady.

you scrunch your nose in amusement and take the flower. your giddiness overtakes you and you’re quick to bring the beautiful plant up to your nose and breathe in. the smell is refreshing, what a flower should smell like in its prime. this iris is truly the perfect pick.

you look back up to dazai only to find him observing you with an unfamiliar gleam in his curious eyes. “thank you for the flower. i was surprised when you rang the doorbell, y’know? anyways, come in, your favorite is on the counter in the kitchen.”

the detective wastes no time in shuffling in. he toes his shoes off quickly and tosses his jacket on top of them, majority of it laying crumpled on the floor. dazai’s nose finds the amber liquor before his eyes do. he looks at the poured shot glass almost apologetically. you watch him do so and furrow your brow in confusion. 

you don’t linger on dazai’s strange behavior for long or the fact that he was in such a rush to get over here that he forgot to put his vest on and match his socks. you focus on opening your cabinet for your thin vase made for a single flower you totally didn’t steal from an event the ada hosted. you struggle for a moment before dazai’s chest is lightly grazing your back and he’s reaching above you to grab the object for the iris. 

the detective keeps you trapped between the counter and his body as he reaches over and fills the vase with some water. once he’s done and straightens himself, dazai plucks the flowers from your hold and plops it into the water. he scoots it as far away as possible before spinning you around. 

dazai brings his hand up and wraps it around the back of your head, fingers gentle as he runs them through your hair then he pushes your head into his chest and reaches up with his other arm — softly murmuring, “watch your head…” 

his voice trails off, like he’s not sure whether he should continue as he closes the cabinet doors above you. when he’s done, his fingers wrap around your hair and he tugs lightly to get you to look up at him. your breath hitches when his eyes catch the light, golden hour. the warm lighting turning his usual dark irises into a shining bronze. they’re beautiful, he’s beautiful as your eyes trace every feature on his face. 

dazai looks tired, you can tell by the way his skin is dull and in the bags that sit under his eyes and in the way his eyelids droop just a little bit lower than they normally do. despite his exhaustion, he still shines in the sunlight painted across his features. 

then he whispers out your given name, as if breathing it is all he knows.

the thing he was scared to utter, because dazai is dazai and you now know what that means. he’s terrified of rejection, specifically yours. so, instead of telling him — you’ve never really been good with words — you show dazai how willing you are to reassure him that rejection from you will never happen.

you search his eyes for a moment, looking for any hesitancy on his part. you don’t find any. you reach up and gingerly cup the brunettes cheeks. his reaction is instantaneous as he melts into your touch like a man starved. his fingers in your hair tighten and you let out a short noise, something caught between a whimper and a gasp. 

the noise you make is all the confirmation dazai needs to slip from your grip, he leans in to slot his lips with yours in a deep and fervent kiss.

you let out another noise, this time a hum of approval. your hovering arms rest on the detectives shoulders and you wrap them around his neck. with your new leverage you draw dazai even closer to you. your chests are pressed together as you breathe each other in. your senses are suddenly flooded by him and a welcome chill rolls through your body when he nips at your bottom lip.

his movements are slow, a stark difference from the usual desperation he displays when the two of you initiate sex. his tongue dances along your lips, silently pleading for entrance. you part your lips with ease and even let out a soft hum of appreciation. dazai explores your mouth like he’s discovering something entirely new for the very first time. his tongue goes from entangling with your own to scraping the back of your teeth then flattening against the roof of your mouth. you feel as if he’s devouring you, taking his time and not leaving a single centimeter untouched. 

while dazai’s mouth has you preoccupied, his hands roam freely, sliding across every curve until they land on your ass. again, he’s taking his time. it’s almost excruciating how slowly he’s taking things, but you have no say in the matter when your mind is this foggy. his guidance is welcome even though the pace isn’t quite to your liking.

dazai’s lithe fingers gently massage the swell of your ass, eliciting another whimper from you that he swallows up with a smile tugging at his lips. directly following that he steals your breath when he takes hold of the back of your thigh and hoists you up onto the counter with surprising ease. you distantly think, once again, how it feels like the man is trying his best to devour you. your hold around him tightens but you part from him, a string of spit following you. you’re panting, trying to collect the air you lost, the air that was taken from you by the brunette standing before you with a lopsided smile and gleaming eyes.

“…osamu…” you imagine the way you said his name just now sounds eerily familiar to the way he said yours.

dazai lets out a groan and dips his head down to nuzzle your neck. his fingers are now biting into your hips and teasing the hem of your tank top. his mouth trails along your jawline then he begins leaving sloppy kisses down the expanse of your neck. you push your chest into his and rake your fingers slowly up his clothed back.

you're desperate and it’s showing — it’s contagious even. dazai can only take so much. he’s waited too long to have you wrapped around him in the most intimate of ways. 

his fingers finally find their way under your shirt as he all but whines, “been waiting for this since i was taken, wanted you s’bad when i was gone.” 

you lean back and stare at him for a moment before trailing your fingers under the collar of his shirt and along the string of his bolo tie. you expertly loosen it along with the buttons of his shirt, which you also untuck from his trousers. you leave everything hanging on him for now while your lidded eyes stay trained on his face as you trail your hands down your body to where dazai’s hands rest on your now exposed hips. you want to see the reaction on his face as you guide his hands up, to expose more of your torso.

it’s your turn to guide him to your chest, letting him hold your breasts. his breath hitches and eyes flutter when you still. his fingers twitch and he watches you closely as he gives you a cautionary squeeze, testing out the waters. you hum in appreciation and give him a short nod. dazai is slow, again, it’s almost frustrating. you let out a huff but he’s far too focused on your tits to notice your ire. 

you stew in your frustration for a moment before a wild grin spreads across your face. you think you’ve figured out how to make the surprisingly patient man crack. you push your chest further into his hold and he thinks nothing of it, that is until you lift your shirt the rest of the way off and drop it on the floor. the brunette’s eyes flit from your chest to your face. he raises a brow curiously as you reach over and pull the bolo tie off his neck and pull it over your head, letting the accessory rest in between the valley of your breasts.

“i missed you too.”  

dazais eyes roll to the back of his head as he abandons your chest and takes hold of your face. “you’ll be the reason for my demise, bella.”

the detective gives you no room to rebuttal because in the next instant he’s crashing his lips to yours, his patience clearly thinned out. you smile triumphantly and reach out to slide his shirt off his torso and both of you let it fall to the ground. you trail your fingers down his abdomen. following the bumps of his bandages and leaving a wake of goosebumps on his exposed skin. when you make it to his pants you waste no time in unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants button. 

while you’re busy with your own endeavor, dazai is conjuring up a plan of his own. his hands trail down your thighs squeezing at the plushness of them. just as you’re about to unzip the brunette’s pants and let them drop to the floor to join the rest of your clothing, dazai slips from your grip as he drops to his knees. and how are you supposed to complain when he looks so good looking up at you through his lashes sitting pretty between your thighs? 

the answer is you don’t.

your hands quickly find his hair and your fingers tangle with the soft tresses. he leaves a trail of kisses up each of your thighs. once he’s satisfied with his work his fingers curl into the band of your shorts and looks up at you expectantly.

”off…” it’s a soft demand, but a demand all the same. 

you lift your hips and dazai all but tears the small article of clothing from your legs. he let’s out the most pathetic whimper when he notices two things. the first being that you weren't wearing any underwear. the second was just how wet you already were. it’s a clear testament to how worked up you must be and something in dazai’s chest swells as he realizes you must have been just as frustrated as he was. 

“no panties all because of me? how pretty. somehow your prettier than i remember, absolutely divine to a man that’s been starving for months.” 

your thighs lightly squeeze his head and you let out a frustrated groan. “osamu, please, would you just shut up and-“

your sentence is cut off by dazai practically shoving his face into your cunt and attaching his lips to your clit. it’s tactless but the way he sucks harshly has you seeing stars. your head lulls back and you let out embarrassing little pants. your fingers in his hair tug and scratch against his scalp, which earns a shameless moan from below you.

dazai is still watching you through his lashes. he can feel himself hardening in his pants, his hips twitching as they threaten to start thrusting and humping the air desperately. he ignores the desperate need to be inside of you and focuses on your pleasure. the detective brings his hand up to your mouth and taps your bottom lip with his middle and ring fingers. you’re happy to comply and open your mouth to welcome the two digits, wrapping your lips around his slender and long fingers and sucking on them with a smile.

dazai can feel the way he leaks into his pants at the view before him. it’s embarrassing how easily he’s getting off to you getting off on his mouth. pathetic even. only you could do this to him, no one else has ever drawn this kind of reaction out of the ex port mafia executive. once you're done swirling your tongue around his fingers, he pulls them from your mouth and guides them to your entrance. 

without giving it a second thought he pushes both digits into you with ease. 

your own fingers tug harshly at dazai’s hair and you let out a string of moans. “fu- ‘samu ‘s too much… oh my god- gonna cum already.”

dazai stills, for both your sakes because he thinks the knot in his own stomach is far too tight to just be desire. he was gonna cum. he was going to cum untouched. but he can’t just leave you hanging like this. your release versus his embarrassment. it’s an easy decision. dazai continues the suction he had on your clit and he pulls his fingers out of you almost all of the way and slides them right back in. 

you’re babbling incoherently, you can’t hold your head up, can’t see the way dazai is desperately bucking hips humping the air as he chases the minimal friction his underwear brings him. 

all it takes is two more thrusts of dazais fingers and you’re done for, cumming on his fingers, his mouth, his tongue. dazai is a messy eater, he’s slurping up your juices, everything that's drooling out of you is caught by his tongue. your vision is white and ears are ringing so you miss the way dazai starts cursing to himself. his mouth is still lapping at you but his hand has disappeared. 

you look down to see him using the same hand to pump his cock but by the time you register it, he’s already cumming, making an absolute mess of his pants and your kitchen floor. dazai’s whole body is twitching, but once he’s done he slumps over and rests his head on your thigh. his face is flushed, a telltale sign that he did, in fact, just cum.

you blink, trying to find your bearings and come to terms with whatever the fuck it was that just happened. “did you just-“

“shut up- no! i didn’t- no- shut up!” dazai whines as he shoves his face into your thighs and you can feel the heat radiating off his face.

you let out a snort and stroke his now sweaty hair. “osamu, it’s fine. it’s been a while. plus we both know, with that freak stamina of yours, you’ll be ready to go again in 10 minutes max.”

dazai rolls his head on your thigh so he can pout at you. you let out a small giggle at how cute he is. your hand drops to caress his cheek. 

“c’mere…” 

dazai shakes his head defiantly at your request. “no. i’m a mess. i need a towel to clean up first.”

you sigh at his dramatics but scoot over to jump off the counter. you walk a few paces forward to your small kitchen table where your paper towels sit. you pad on over and hand him the roll. dazai lets out a weak ‘thanks’ as you walk to the fridge and pull something out: a small container with a single cupcake in it. you pop the lid open and stick a birthday candle in it. you snatch your lighter and flick it on to light the candle.

walking back over to dazai, who’s shifted to sit against the cabinets and grumbling to himself about how he’ll show you how long he can really last, you're careful to make sure the candle doesn’t go out. you slink down against the cabinets and wait for dazai to stop cleaning himself and notice you.

with a huff dazai kicks his pants off, sitting only in his underwear. he looks over at you with a perplexed look, staring between you and the cupcake in your hands.

“what… what’s that for?” his face looks strangely innocent, he’s genuinely confused. 

you smile softly at him, hoping it’s enough to reassure him. “happy birthday, osamu.”

”how…??” he’s so stunned he can’t even speak.

you suppose this reaction is to be expected. until his arrest, you had no knowledge of when his birthday was. but since becoming public enemy number 1 a lot of his personal information had been shared to the public. his birthday being apart of that. you don’t feel like ruining the mood and explaining all that to him right now.

so instead of explaining, you simply move the cupcake towards him. “would you stop being difficult and just blow out your candle to make a wish?”

dazai gives you a scorned look but listens to you anyways. he seems to take the wishing part seriously as he contemplates something. his eyes flicker to you for a moment before he leans in and blows out the candle.

[annievrse]

it's nice to have a friend

dazai x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: a slow morning with dazai turns into being late for work. but do you really care? w/c: 0.9k c/w: dazai puts his head under ur shirt but its not sexual, established relationship, ur shorter than dazai, kunikida slander!! (all jokes <3)

"get out of there," you slur, your brain still waking up. the sun warms your face, and you mentally scold dazai for not closing the blinds last night after you fell asleep.

without opening your eyes, you know where dazai lays his head—it's his favourite place. the head-shaped lump under your shirt moves, and you rub your eyes in preparation to open them against the morning light.

dazai presses kisses against your sternum, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "...no," the sound is muffled, but you hear it perfectly. "comfy."

"osamu," you laugh, vision bleary with sleep when you look down at your chest. tufts of brown hair stick out of the neckline of your shirt and tickle your collarbones. dazai has his arms wrapped around your hips, and his legs tangle with yours under the sheets. "we have to go to work."

his hair brushes against your skin when he shakes his head. his hands lay flat on your back and his fingers dance along your spine. you twist your body in an attempt to get away from his ticklish fingers, but dazai holds you tight.

your whines and giggles soothe his aching chest and messy mind. holding you this close is one thing, but being the reason you laugh so freely makes dazai's supposed rotten heart mellow.

"c'mon," you urge, rubbing his bare back. dazai groans. "i'll bandage you up."

your boyfriend slips his head from under your shirt with red cheeks and a bird's nest for hair. then he leans forward to hover over you, his hair falling into his eyes, and you push it back to reveal his forehead.

"i love you," dazai whispers, leaning into your hand on his cheek. you push up on your elbow and kiss him, swallowing the sounds that escape his mouth.

"i will love you if we get to work on time," you fold your lips between your teeth, gauging his reaction. dazai slaps his hand over his chest and falls to the side, his body bouncing off the mattress softly.

"you're terrible. absolutely despicable. i can't believe you've finessed your way into my bed."

rolling your eyes, you turn onto your side to face him. "'samu."

"hm?"

"this is my bed."

dazai lifts his head from the tangle of blankets. "your bed? we both paid for it with the hard-earned cash we get from being better at our jobs than kunikida."

"get up," you scoff, hiding your smile as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. "and don't slander our coworker so early in the morning."

dazai shrugs and lays back down. a bird sitting on the balcony chirps loudly like your personal alarm telling you to hurry up.

brushing your teeth, you make a mental checklist of your work for the day. paperwork, a trip to the police station to obtain a list of suspects for the case you're working on, more paperwork, and—

hands slide around your waist. dazai presses his cheek against the top of your head and you jump from his sudden appearance.

"why are we awake?"

"work."

"ugh."

after rinsing your mouth and washing your face with a man attached to your back, you turn around to face him. dazai's eyes are closed, his hair flopping lazily over his forehead. you feel a twinge of sadness for your boyfriend and sigh. reaching to his side of the sink for the bandage roll, you stretch it out before his eyes.

your hands move deftly, wrapping the white gauze around his torso with accustomed skill. you peck his chest every once in a while, and work efficiently, almost completely covering his body in under two minutes.

"thank you," dazai says, his voice low. he squeezes your hips in gratitude before allowing you to wrap them too. dazai brings your hand to his lips after linking them together, his eyes on you. you look to the floor bashfully.

"if we're late, it's your fault! let's go! move!" dazai declares, running out of the bathroom. the sudden change in his demeanour does little to shock you, but the switch in blame does.

you laugh and shake your head, hurrying to follow him to the closet. bumping into each other, pulling clothes off hangers and snatching shoes from the shelf, you share kisses between you buttoning up his shirt and him tying your tie—you've always been hopeless at it.

you spend a little longer in the bathroom, and dazai goes to the kitchen to shove snacks into your bag. with your hair finally wrangled and brushing out dazai's hair when he's not paying attention, you're ready for work with 30 seconds to spare.

"new record?"

you nod while fixing your earrings and grab the keys from the dish beside the door. "we totally deserve a prize."

dazai pauses in the doorway, his finger on his cupid's bow. "breakfast before we turn up? surely they don't expect us to be on time."

you check your phone for the time and contemplate your schedule again. wow, are you turning into kunikida?

nodding quickly to forget the thought, you grasp his hand and pull him out the door, the lock automatically flicking closed.

"pancakes, here we come!"

[kitasgloves]

— ♬ NSFW

Thinking about DAZAI OSAMU who won't shut the fuck up. He keeps yapping about the same topics to annoy you. For the most part, you ignore them or listen half-heartedly. But there are rare occasions where his constant blabbering genuinely pisses you off. That stupid smirk on his face as his mouth ran per miles a minute makes you want to shove a sword down his throat. You know he's trying to achieve something that's why he's irritating you on purpose, whatever the fuck it was, you're reaching your breaking point.

"Is this what you fucking wanted, huh? My pussy in your stupid mouth?"

You growled at him while sending a dark look between your legs. Dazai nods vigorously with your cunt in his mouth, his eyes are threatening to fly back with each roll of your hips. You restrained the idiot down to the bed and sat on his face. Your warm and sopping pussy served as a gag on his mouth, and it was effective. Dazai stopped talking as he was reduced into a moaning and whimpering mess. Your hand goes to grip his brown hair, he gasps against your cunt.

"Stupid fucking whore, talking all that shit when all you're thinking about is me sitting on your face, is that it?"

You glared at him and he only nodded in response, you pulled on his hair and tears began to collect on his lashline.

"Come on, answer me properly!"

"Mmh—yes"

Dazai replied, his voice was muffled as you put all of your weight on the lower half of his face. God, he almost can't breathe but it feels so fucking good. He wonders how would you react if he told you this isn't what his intentions are. He just loved making you angry because he thought you were cute! But Dazai's not complaining about the outcome of his yapping.

You gripped the crown of his head as you rolled your hips, your slippery pussy sliding against his tongue. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine when your clit gets stimulated. You throw your head back as you ride his face faster, you suffocate Dazai by forcing his head against your core. The latter thinks he wouldn't mind dying this way, it would be an honor to die against your pussy like this.

"Use your fucking tongue, slut"

You commanded him and he immediately obeyed. Dazai works his tongue on your clit. You go cross-eyed when he begins to suck on your bundle of nerves. Fuck, he's so fucking hard and he wanted to finger you too. The sound of your breathless moans and his muffled whimpering filled the room. The feeling of your orgasm is approaching so you began to rapidly grind your pussy sloppily all over his mouth.

"Hngh—fuck! Gonna cum!"

Dazai's eyes rolled back, the feeling of your cunt against his tongue, the taste of your arousal, and the sound of your sexy moaning was enough to make him cum in his pants. His breathing cuts short as you gasp at the sight of Dazai convulsing under you with his eyes rolled back as he bucked his hips up wildly.

Did this piece of shit really cum untouched?

Sure, the sight was erotic as hell but you needed to cum first! You scowled as you yanked his hair back harshly after his orgasm.

"You motherfucker, I'm supposed to cum first!"

Dazai whimpers as you begin to abuse his face. He couldn't feel his tongue anymore and his pants felt sticky as hell. He mustered up his remaining energy to suck on your clit and it sends you arching back with a broken moan.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Dazai!"

The freak greedily laps on all of your cum from your hole. When your orgasm washed over and you caught your breath, you slowly rose from his mouth. A string of your cum connected his tongue and your cunt. God, he looked like a hot mess with half of his face drenched wet with your juices, his skin flushed red, his hair was disheveled and his eyes glassy. Dazai almost felt disappointed and empty when you got off his face, nonetheless, he would be down for another round if the opportunity showed itself.

"That was hot as fuck"

He remarks with a breathless laugh. You rolled your eyes but there was a tint of pink in your cheeks. You decided to go clean up in the bathroom.

"Babe? Aren't you going to help me out?"

He was greeted with silence and he let out a pathetic whine. Did you just leave him restrained on the bed? How cruel!

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  sharing a bed with them 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma

content: pre-relationship bed sharing, flirty/mildly sexual implications

It's truly unfortunate that, while on a mission for the Agency, you have to share a bed with DAZAI — or so you think, at least. He doesn't share the sentiment in the slightest, instead smiling as innocently as possible the moment his gaze falls onto the single bed in the hotel room booked for the night. While he pretends to offer you the bed, he'll guilt-trip you about the couch being way too short for his long legs and about his back already aching until, eventually, you give in and share it with him.

Naturally, he gets into your space more than necessary at night, pretending he's asleep while cuddling close to you, given how, then, you can't cuss him out for wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face in your neck, breath warm against your throat. It's worse that he knows if you won't get any amount of sleep whatsoever, much too busy with fighting off arousal while he's pressed flush against your back.

“Hm? No, it's alright. I don't mind taking the couch. What kind of man would I be if I let you sleep on there? Still, it's just — it's way too short and hard. Couches this uncomfortable shouldn't exist, really. I doubt I'll be able to get even a wink of sleep tonight, what a shame.”

When there turns out to only be one bed in the hotel room you're supposed to stay in for the night, CHŪYA doesn't even hesitate before offering you the bed, immediately going for the couch instead. He won't accept any protests either; no matter whether you're worried about his comfort or just think it's polite to refuse his offer, he won't allow you to spend the night on a sofa. He's not making a huge deal out of it and, if you keep being annoying about it, he gets more and more exhausted by the minute.

Eventually, he might give in to the idea of sharing the bed. He has no trouble keeping to himself — or so he believes, because, once he's actually asleep, softly snoring into your ear, he's moving wildly, one leg eventually thrown over your body, arms stretched out. If you mention it to him in the morning, his cheeks flush soft pink.

“Hm? The fuck you mean, you'll be taking the sofa? Definitely not. I'm already here — and I don't mind. Go lie down and get some sleep. We've got a busy day tomorrow.”

RANPO, the very moment he steps foot into the room, decides he wants the bed to himself. The idea of taking the couch doesn't even cross his mind; instead, he makes his way over to the bed all too quickly, though, when you end up either glaring at him or asking him to share, he just shrugs.

Really, he doesn't make too big of a deal out of sharing a bed, not even seeming a little nervous at the idea of lying down beside you for hours on end. Meanwhile, at night, he cuddles up close to you — actually asleep, unlike a certain someone —, arms wrapped around you, for once completely unaware of you being all flustered because of him. In the morning, it'll be like nothing happened, even though you can't quite stop thinking about

“What are you looking at me like that for? I said we can share. If you're hoping to have it for yourself, tough luck. I was here first, just saying. Just get in or move to the couch already, I'm tired.”

All of FYODOR'S decisions are based on logic; this one is no exception. If the bed is large enough to fit two people, it's large enough for the two of you to share — though, if you feel like taking the couch instead, he won't protest. That's your decision to make, after all.

While actually sharing the bed with him, it's basically like you're alone in there, anyway. He doesn't move when asleep, doesn't make a sound; it's all too easy to imagine he's not even there, even though, occasionally, a dark strand of hair might brush against your face. What you don't know, however, is that he, at night, while you're fast asleep, he takes the time to watch you up close, lilac eyes tracing over every plane of your face.

“I do not mind sharing the bed with you. I hope you feel similarly. We both are adults, are we not? I doubt this will be an issue. Just lie down.”

NIKOLAI is undoubtedly amused by the idea of sharing a bed with you. He doesn't waste a single thought towards either of you taking the sofa instead; nonsense, just why would you do that? There's a perfectly fine bed right there, and surely both of you are mature enough to share one without any issues, right? Wrong.

He makes a point of being as obnoxious as possible, cuddling close to you the very second you lie down. It doesn't help that he's both tall and strong, his arms closed around your waist so you can't even try to get away or up, and he makes a point of whining whenever you attempt to squirm away. It's going to be a long night.

“What's the matter? Why are you moving so much? Stop it, I won't be able to fall asleep this way. Or — ah, are you trying to rile me up on purpose? That's naughty of you, sweetheart.”

SIGMA immediately makes a beeline for the couch the second he notices the dilemma of having a double bed rather than two separate ones booked. He won't even discuss the topic with you; he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable or forced to sleep on a sofa, so he'll do it instead. There's no whining or guilt tripping from his end; he simply accepts his fate for the night. There's worse things to endure.

If you're incredibly serious about convincing him, however, he might just give in, even though his cheeks feel a little warmer than usual when he lies down next to you, making sure there's an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you. If there's anything he doesn't want, it's you thinking he's trying to be creepy after you've decided to trust him — he probably ends up barely getting any sleep, just because he's worried about accidentally getting too close to you.

“Are you sure you're alright with this? I really don't mind spending the night on the sofa instead. ... Well, if you're sure — thank you.”

NEW POST AGAIN FINALLY AA my commissions are open, by the way!! dm me if interested! 💜

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tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @Chxrry-doll @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha

@xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter-uwu @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646nsfw @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving @scinclaitnoir @Snips18 @satohruu @flowzel