Main. !!! nsfw on here !!! Multi fandom. I comment in the tags. Canât be bothered to tag reblogs anymore. Writing account -> @fisshbones All fics reblogged deserve sm love!! <3
~ Iâm sapphic and enby. đłïžâđđłïžââ§ïž
~ Pronouns: he/they/she/it.
~ My favorite things are: Obey Me, Bsd, HxH, soul eater, Twd, Mh, Secret Alliance, Arcane, Genshin, and Honkai!
~ I spend most of my time daydreaming, reading and listening to music. {link to current favorite songs & top 101 favorite songs of all time}.
~ Other socials: Alt/writing tumblr acc: @fisshbones
~ Iâm not afraid to callout ppls bs, so
- honkai impact 3 inv code: 105533443CA
~ Uhhh thatâs all i can really think of.. my asks and stuff are always open so feel free to drop by! Also!! Thanks for 100 followers!!
Tags & Dni/Byf:
Tags:
#\đ talks my own posts + me talking about stuff.
#\ Spoilers please block these tags if you donât want to see any types of spoilers {obvs}.
#\ 10/10 would recommend my fav works that iâve re-read so many times that i need a way to bookmark it
#\ mouse writes ermmm hcs or fics i write/make
DNI/BYF
Dni racists, transphobes, homophobes, people that donât respect neo pronouns, pro lifers, maps and terfs, tbh just basic DNI material.
Byf: Iâm not a dark content blog however I donât mind if you are! As long as youâre not in the DNI youâre fine!
I post/reblog nsfw fanfics so if that makes you uncomfy just unfollow. Pretty much only my posts are tagged; so reblogs for the most part wonât have any tags.
How would Dazai, Ranpo and Kunikida react to reader giving them the silence treatment?
đET'S PLAY THE đŹUIET GAME.á
oooo~, new characters! i'll make this look a little more cutesy then since dazai always gets special treatment around here. i'll also try not to do too much angst; definitely a headcanon piece. yes, let's see how ranpo, kunikida, and dazai would react to gn!reader giving them the silent treatment, shall we?
⥠â°. Ranpo á°.á
Ranpo hasn't stopped running his mouth long enough to notice you haven't spoken in over an hour. He has his game controller in his hands, focused on the screen while he plays and able to maintain the one-sided conversation - he loves the sound of his own voice far too much. He could speak forever if you'd let him, and it seems he believes this is the time you're giving him that allowance. You sit there, half-listening, arms folded, and you glare ahead at the television, watching his mind work playing some rendition of Tetris. Why do they have little eyeballs?
"Ya know," he yawns, stretching his legs out and slumping down into his spot. "Having a one-sided conversation actually kinda sucks." He points out, and your head barely turns to look at him, eyebrow raised, mouth closed. "At least when it comes to you, I guess. Why are you just letting me talk?" He knows you don't like when he uses his ability on you, and out of respect for you, he does his very best not to. However, it's killing him to not know what the problem is, and his fingers are itching to grab his glasses from atop his head. "You always have something to say." He adds at the end, pausing his game and setting the controller to the side.
You glance at him sidelong before directing your attention forward again, throwing your leg over your knee, and remain mute. His head cocks at that motion, brows twitching together before sitting himself up some, and his emerald eyes are trying to analyze you. You two haven't been dating for very long, a year maybe, but you're fairly certain he is perfectly capable of identifying any issue you may have without using his powers.
"Do you just hate me?" He blurts, childish, tone teasing but he's incredibly serious. You roll your eyes, foot bouncing in place, choosing to gaze out of the window to the left. He makes an aggravated, unconvinced sound, scooching along to sit closer, meshing your sides together, and lightly nudges your shoulder. "Hey, pay attention to me." He mutters, not used to his "chit-chat" buddy being silent. You turn your nose up with an emphasized 'hmph!' What kind of reaction is that? He sighs, aggressively slouching back against the couch cushion, glasses getting jostled a bit before slipping down to his arm, and he is still fighting with himself to not use his ability on you.
"Babe, I'm bored!" He finally whines, squishing his cheek on your arm, peering up at you with a pathetic pout, and you spare him another glance before looking away again. "Why aren't you talking? You don't even know what shutting up means!" He means well, he really does, but that makes your jaw drop, a scoff of disbelief pitching out of your throat, and stares at you as if that response is unwarranted. "Well... you don't." He says, voice trailing off. You huff, immediately getting to your feet and stomping off to a different room of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.
Ranpo blinks once, watching after you, and he hasn't the slightest idea of what is causing the issue. However, he's stubborn when it comes to you and loves a good case, so he stands upright with a sigh, trudging his way toward whatever room you locked yourself away in.
"Babe?" He calls out, knocking his knuckles on the wood, and listens for any sign of life. He hears shuffling on the other side, his hands tucking themselves in his pockets, and his forehead rests on the door. "What's the matter?" He asks, and that makes your frown deepen. How does he not know? You ignore him, sitting on the floor of the spare bedroom with your legs crossed under you and arms folded over your chest, staring at the wall. "Wanna go with me to get some ice cream?" Your ear perks at that, one of your beloved pastimes together, but it feels tainted if he is doing it to avoid taking responsibility.
The two of you remain in this manufactured silence, uncomfortable, him trying to come up with what could possibly be the reason for this strange behavior, and your shoulders slump the longer you sit there alone. How people do this for longer than what you're putting Ranpo through is beyond you - mostly because he's right, you do love talking. Especially with him, but he pissed you off so badly, you don't have anything to say.
"I'm gonna come in," he announces, doorknob twisting, and you scoot around so your back faces him when he enters, seeing you sit there, and he rakes his fingers through his hair when he feels the unhappiness roaring in the space. He takes a few careful steps closer, leaning over to be in your face, but you make no moves to acknowledge his presence. He doesn't want to say this, but he fears this is the only way to get you to talk again: "What have I done wrong?" He crouches down, arms wrapping around your shoulders, and places his head on your temple. You want to exhale, relief, rid yourself of the smog swirling inside, just from him admitting it was his fault. I know it killed him to do that.
Your eyes dart to sneak a peek at him before staring back at the wall, settling more into your closed-off position. "Oh? I'm allowed to talk now?" You ask, voice pitched, a rhetorical question to say the least.
"Hmm? Yeah?" He looks at you a bit like you're... silly. "You're always allowed to talk. I want you to talk."
"Really? Because you kept interrupting me earlier," you reveal then what was the issue, and he can't stop the arched brow and confused impression. That's it?
"You weren't talking.... because I interrupted you?" He repeats, tone flat, thoroughly ambivalent that was the only thing. "It wasn't... There's nothing else?" He tries to sound more sympathetic, but he's nearing gobsmacked you pulled this entire charade because he talked over you.
"It's rude, Ranpo!" You whirl your head to face him, cheeks puffing out some from the irritation and making internal attempts not to completely blow up on him. "If you wanna talk then let others finish their sentence! You don't just steamroll over them!" He blinks a couple times, mulling your words over, scanning your reaction, then bites down on his lip. You don't get upset easy, so for you to be yelling at him like this over being interrupted must mean it seriously bothered you.
He nods once, slowly, plopping down behind you before locking you between his legs and arms slinking around your sides. "Right. I guess I'm just too comfortable around you I forget my manners." His chin nestles in the crook of your neck, hugging you closer. "I'm... I'm really sorry. I love talking with you, I got excited and spoke when I wanted to." You sigh, curling up to huddle yourself into his embrace, hating that momentary hour or so of not speaking to him or accepting his affections.
"I forgive you," you grumble. "But you mentioned ice cream."
"I did," he messes with your hair. "But that means we have to leave."
"Yeah, so?"
"I don't wanna," he pouts, his body going deadweight on top of yours, and you exclaim when he topples over. "Maybe later. I have more things I wanna say now that I have you trapped here with me."
⥠đ. Kunikida âđĄ
Calm, cool, collected Kunikida. He isn't phased by much when it comes to your random outbursts, "difficult" behaviors, energy highs and lows, nor your mental crashes.
This is another small bump in the road for him, something that he is capable of handling with stride and that has you fuming. He's outlandish too, not nearly to your degree, but aside from that, he has the stability of a well-trained professional. He isn't entirely positive he knows what triggered this, but he isn't necessarily without context.
The other night, you were on the verge of a meltdown over the restaurant not having the food you wanted. It was your designated evening for takeout, which only happens once every two weeks, you had been looking forward to it, daydreaming about the meal, and when the time came to order it, the worker on the other line told Kunikida they were sold out for the night. You were about to absolutely burst into tears over this, taking your deep breaths in then slowly exhaling, and your boyfriend politely thanked the worker before hanging up to check on you.
"You're doing great, I'm proud of you," he encouraged, keeping his hands to himself, so you can your space and breathing room.
"How can they not have it?! It's popular!" Your fingers curled in and out of themselves repeatedly, nails lightly digging into your palms, and he watched you closely, knowing he needed to choose everything carefully until you finally had something in your system.
"Yes, it is popular. That might be why it's sold out for the evening," he offered, arms folding over his chest, but that didn't make you feel better at all.
"Then that means they need to keep enough ingredients stocked for it, Kunikida!" You stomped your foot, getting increasingly more annoyed, and hungry.
"Yes, of course, I will file a complaint with their manager once I get the opportunity," he nodded, agreeing, but you faltered at that. Maybe it was the pre-meltdown brain fog, maybe it was the hunger, maybe it was the wanting to be angry with someone, but that set you off. Your tongue poked your cheek, nodding slowly, then clicking it before you just brushed past him to your shared bedroom. His brow lifted, watching after you, and he inhaled before pulling his phone out and seeing if there was a copycat recipe. As well as if the grocery store was still opened.
You haven't said anything to him, unless it was majorly important, which was primarily while you two were at work.
"Is there a reason you two aren't speaking?" Atsushi asks, noticing your cold shoulder is only geared toward your boyfriend when you pass him in the office of the agency. Kunikida peeks over his shoulder, seeing you walk away with papers in your hand toward the filing room, and he sighs inwardly.
"They're upset with me, and I am allowing them some space," he explains, going back to typing away on his laptop.
"How admirable," Dazai chimes in, a taunting purr as he points a pen in his partner's direction. "I wouldn't be able to handle such quiet."
"We know, chatterbox," Kunikida grits, fingers coming up to press into his sockets. He adjusts his glasses then gets back to work as if there isn't an issue in the world. "They'll speak with me when they're ready. I'm not concerned."
"Do you know what you did?" Atsushi tilts his head, finding this conversation more interesting than the report he was trying to complete.
"Not completely, but I think it had to do with the other night when their favorite restaurant didn't have their go-to meal," he sits back, deciding that he can take somewhat of a break to bounce ideas off of his colleagues. "I know they're incredibly professional and well-maintained here, at home it's a bit of a different story. I usually allow them their space, the emotions come out, then everything is fine. It seems now that something got misconstrued, and I'm being iced out." While he sounds like all he is doing are basic deductions, as if he is on an agency case, he is actually quite bothered by this. The silent treatment is new, not confident he can last much longer with you pretending he doesn't exist. You've resorted to eating takeout or convenience store snacks just to avoid talking to him about dinner.
"Well, that isn't exactly your fault..." Atsushi grimaces some when you walk by again, a shiver running down his spine. Dazai's eyes flicker from you to Kunikida, propping his cheek on his fist, having a longshot idea that maybe it wasn't the lack of ingredients that upset you.
"What'd ya say to them?" He probes, directing his full attention to his partner. Kunikida cocks his head, then shrugs.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. They were upset that a popular menu item was unavailable, making a good point the restaurant should be aware of that, and I said I'd file a complaint to the manager about it when I had the chance," he relays the conversation. "They walked away after that, and I haven't heard their voice outside of important work-related business." Dazai snaps, pointing a finger between his eyes.
"There!" He grins, mischievous. Kunikida and Atsushi share a glance before both looking at their colleague. "Your comment about complaining to the manager."
"Correct, and I did," your boyfriend's more confused than ever. "I don't understand the issue."
"If they were really upset, that probably sounded patronizing, Mr. Kunikida," Atsushi adds, starting to follow where Dazai is going.
"Exactly," Dazai confirms, picking his pen back up just to mess around. Kunikida sits there quietly, thinking about how the past few days you did everything on your own, not asking him for help, working through any emotions that spilled by yourself, and tone clinical if you did speak to him at work. As he told the others, he was trying to give you your space, breathing room, not wanting to be overbearing. However, with his coworkers here walking him through the situation, he realizes that maybe Atsushi is right. Any problems you have, he has a fix, and if it bothered you so greatly that the restaurant wasn't better prepared, he thought the only solution was to complain, then make it at home - which you ate all of happily because it tasted even better since he's such a great cook. However, you couldn't tell him that.
He nods once to himself, carefully getting up and abandoning his work, approaching you with cautious confidence. He politely clears his throat, hand in his pocket and lightly grasps your elbow - that you jerk away. He tries to ignore that. "May I speak with you?"
"No."
"My dear, please, I would like to talk to you," his voice is as steady as ever, and that infuriates you more. He hasn't cracked, budged, crumbled, begged, or anything else to get you talk to him. He's leaving you alone instead of groveling at your feet for forgiveness after his dumb comment.
"Busy," you rush out, shuffling absentmindedly through the papers you had brought in from the filing cabinets. He sighs, knowing you well enough that you aren't going to go with him unless he gives you something that will satisfy your mood.
"I'm sorry," he blurts. "I'm sincerely sorry for the other night." You pause, hand moving slow, but you don't look in his direction.
"What did you do?" You test.
"I said I'd complain to the manager, and I understand how that came off," he explains himself, still trying incredibly hard not to say anything else that could make things worse. "It wouldn't have made anything better, and I was inconsiderate of your feelings." He remains behind you, hands to himself, wanting to fix this but wanting to respect your space. You wet your lips, mouth opening to respond, but you sigh while shuffling papers again.
"Whatever," you slap the stack down on the surface, turning to face him. "It was just food. Who cares?" You shrug, and he can recognize you're still bothered.
"You do, and your feelings are important to me. You know that," his hand flinches in his pocket, wanting to reach up and touch you, but he reminds himself you're both working, and you're upset. You stare up at him, eyes visibly softening and jaw relaxing. "I've missed hearing your pretty voice."
"Don't butter me up," you keep arguing, in the zone since you hardly spoke to him in a few days, eyes narrowing.
"Would you feel better yelling at me in front of everyone at the office for being a jerk?" He offers, gesturing out in the open, and you catch the wandering eyes of his coworkers quickly avert down to their desks, pretending to work.
"No," you pout. "I want my food."
"I already ordered it for you for lunch. I was going to see if you'd like to go get it with me," he checks his watch, then shows it to you. "It is your lunch break." You glance at it then to his eyes, peeking down at the smile on his lips, and you have to remind yourself you are also working.
"You're too nice to me," you admit, arms dropping from their defensive position, and he offers his hand to you that you quickly lace your fingers through. He gently squeezes before leading you out of the office.
"I don't believe I'm nice enough."
⥠đȘ. Dazai -`âĄÂŽ-
Dazai doesn't do well with silence. It leaves him alone with his thoughts, those incredibly noisy and ceaseless thoughts. He doesn't handle it well either when he looks to you for help in ignoring them, and you're enforcing the damning quiet.
He stares at you from his side of the couch, waiting impatiently for you to start talking again. It's day five that you haven't spoken to him. You haven't asked him to refill your water bottle; you haven't drowned him with thankful kisses for doing the laundry; you haven't asked his opinion on dinner, not that usually he has one. Around late night of day two he resorted to just checking the bottle for you and filling it unprompted, setting it beside you - but when he knelt down to place a sweet kiss on your cheek, just as he always does, you shoved him away and turned your head.
The silent treatment is one thing but denying him affection is another. After that stunt, he would force his way into your bubble, nuzzling your cheek or neck, only to be pushed aside, no words from your mouth, and he was getting frustrated. He started doing more around the apartment: cleaning everything so meticulously, even getting the duster and swiping around all the things you have complained to him about not doing before; prepping everything you would need for dinner then clearing the table and immediately washing the dishes; coming straight home from work, not bothering to linger or dilly dally or hide away elsewhere like the bar or bookstore. And he never dared to come back empty handed: favorite drinks, snacks, and last night he took it upon himself to get your usual order from your favorite sushi place down the street. He turned into quite the perfect and model boyfriend, not that he was doing terribly before, and you almost cracked in telling him 'thank you' for being so thoughtful and picking up dinner since you secretly were too exhausted to cook.
Alas, none of it made up for what he did, it only worse that he doesn't even know what he had done to upset you. That big brain yet he's clueless.
"My darling, please," he begs, scooting closer to you and maneuvering his head to try locking gazes with you. However, you're busy reading something on your phone, and make a point to turn and adjust your body so you don't risk looking into his big, pitiful brown eyes. "What could I have possibly done to hurt you like this?" He is trying not to whine or pout or let his feelings get the better of him, but this is torture - and he'd be the best judge of what could be defined as torturous. "Tell me, please, I want to fix this." His hand comes out to cautiously grasp at yours, and for a split second, you think to allow it. You have missed his touch too, but you have to be strong. Prove your point. Your hand withdraws, tucking it between your thighs, and continue reading on from the screen.
A huff, similar to a dog inconvenienced, sounds beside you, the couch shifting until your phone is yoinked from your hand, tossed elsewhere, and his body is hovering over yours. Large hands pin your wrists to the back cushion, and his brows are deeply furrowed with his nose scrunched up, mouth in an angered pout. You blink once, staring up at him, and you hate to admit you're surprised it took this long for him to take action.
"What the hell did I do?!" His voice raises, not a typical occurrence, and your eyes widen briefly at the octave. "You aren't talking to me, you won't let me touch you, and you can't even be bothered to look at me! How can I make it better if you won't fuckin' tell me what I messed up this time?!" You shrink some in your spot, lips parting, and he truly can't wait any longer. "What is it?!" He lightly shakes you, and you have to collect yourself. This is a way bigger reaction than you were expecting, especially given the matter may not have been as serious as you were portraying it.
"Uhm," you clear your throat, wanting to hold contact with him, but he looks incredibly angry, something you don't see too often from Dazai, not in the long handful of years you've known him. Your voice is shaky, small and quiet, a weak whisper: "You ate my chocolate bar." His features melt down to stone, expressionless, blank, then his brow quirks. Did you just say 'chocolate bar'?
"Excuse me?" Your gaze darts in his direction then looks away again, sheepish, sinking more into the cushion under the weight of his agitation.
"You ate my chocolate bar," you mumble out again. "And you haven't replaced it." He sucks in a breath, holding it, and looks down at you with a sudden wave of immense confusion.
"You didn't talk to me... For five days, mind you..." he speaks slowly, readjusting his knees, keeping you trapped beneath him. "Because I ate your chocolate bar?"
"And you didn't replace it! Or apologize!" You spout, your turn to angrily pout, your own nose scrunched up, and he shoots you an incredulous expression.
"Why didn't you just say so?!"
"Principle!" You stick your tongue out at him, and he doesn't know exactly why he does this, probably from the already existing weirdness of the situation, but seeing you do that makes him lean down and bite your tongue. You yelp, lightly kicking him off of you, and groan out into the room. "What the fuck was that for?!"
"I don't know!" He groans with you, getting to his feet and storming toward the door, shoving his shoes on.
"Where exactly are you going?" You place your fists on your hips, glaring at his back.
"To the convenience store, duh!" His nose is wrinkled again when he looks at you over his shoulder, then he drops his entire face, closing his eyes as he sighs heavily. Correcting his attitude entirely. "Wanna come with me? I gotta buy you a whole box anyway." Your minimal anger evaporates, arms slowly dropping down, and you nod, walking to his side to slip on your shoes.
"I'm sorry for not speaking to you. That was... overdramatic," his arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you in for a lingering kiss to your temple.
"I'm sorry for eating your chocolate," he places another kiss on your cheek, taking the edge off from not being granted permission to touch you in days. "You can get whatever else you want. You cooked enough this week, and I'm tired of washing dishes."
my oc came out again in the dazai one since i just finished writing for my ao3 fic lol TuT
Dazai isn't a stranger to melt down's. For years he had them alone in the cold emptiness of his apartment he has called home since he had joined the agency. But you...your the first to see them first hand. His head buried into your chest as the room fills with the sound of choked sobs as you run your hand across his back.
No matter how many times you tell him that your always open to hear about what's on his mind. He wont. He cant. Not about his past. Not the Port. No, no to you. What if he scares you somehow? What if you leave him behind?
Even as you stand in front of the stove making something for the two of you, him behind you and his nose in your neck. Bandages, now loose from scratching them open from grabbing his own arms too harshly, dangle in long ropes. He didn't bother to fix them, or replace them. Dazai will stay silent at the question you ask him. "Do you want to talk about it..?". He wont say a thing.
All you can do i hold him closely, and help ease his mind, if only for a moment.
âwould you die for me?â dazai asked suddenly as you floated together down the river. youâd taken a spontaneous trip away, just the two of you, and were observing a quaint little river twinkling under artificial lights when dazai fell in. of course, you had to jump in after him.
you hummed, water tickling the sides of your face as you drifted beside him. âbetter. iâd live for you.â
dazai went quiet. you didnât trust yourself to look over at him without sinking, but you reached out and tangled your hand in his.
over the gentle rush of water, you heard his breath hitch.
âbut,â you said, and there was a slight tease on the tip of your tongue. âwhen weâre both old and have experienced life to the fullest⊠perhaps some poison in wine would be a peaceful way to go. iâd even let you pick the type.â
in your peripheral, you watched as dazai let his head fall beneath the quiet current. you counted to five before tugging him back to the surface, listening to him sputter for a few seconds before giving his hand a squeeze. âyou canât get rid of me that easy, my love.â
âi suppose not,â he agreed easily, voice a bit scratchy from the water that trickled in through his nose. âa wine of nightshade berries does sound like an exquisite experiment.â
âit does,â you mused. âan exquisite, future experiment.â
dazai hummed, but he didnât release your hand. âspending the next few years or so with you doesnât sound too bad, eitherâŠâ
your smile was quick and real and painful. it was easy to throw his words back at him. âi suppose not.â
after an argument, your boyfriend makes it up to you the best way he knows how. angst/smut, comfort, some emotional distance on dazaiâs part, fingering + oral + light edging (fem receiving). he is so guilty as sin coded i canât explain it. replayed tlou II and this came to mind.
song: guilty as sin
there's a lingering ache in your chest as he explains himself, cocoa brown eyes studying you the way your frown seems to deepen at each word. you can read between the lines enough to know that he is frustrated- crossed arms, a tired tone, and an unusual lack of playfulness that masks any and all residual hurt. but a part of you wishes he'd be just a little bit more worried by how much he's pissed you off, this time around.
"sweetheart." he starts again, his words somewhat dismissive, but with a soft gentleness feathering behind them, reserved for you. "i don't see why this upset you so much."
a spike of anger pierces your throat. your words slow down, as if explaining instructions to a child. "you're telling me you're going to be away for weeks, or even months somewhere in europe. and you can't tell me why?"
the crack in your voice doesn't go unnoticed by either of you. he continues again, unwrapping his arms and moving closer to you. "i told you, i'm going to be back as soon as possible. you know me."
"do i?" tears prick your eyes, unable to raise your voice anymore. "theres just so many secrets, osa. i'm just supposed to do what? wait here till you come back? if you come back?"
"when." he quickly corrects you, a calculated confidence that only comes from years of living on the wrong side of the law.
still, your doubt comes from worry. worry comes from love. "how can you be so sure?"
the calmness of his features makes the walls in the room pulse achingly. you're in fear for his life, for this mystery he refuses to unravel for you, and he seems perfectly rational. though, something in his lips quivers slightly, telling you that deep down? he's probably also afraid. he's just hiding it from you.
"what if you die?" you whisper, vulnerable enough to let him wipe your tears away. he does understand why you're upset, better than most would. he of all people knows how losing someone can ruin you.
he tilts your head upwards, making sure you're looking at him. "i don't plan on dying, bella."
"no one ever plans on dying."
"well-"
"shut up."
your quip draws a half-hearted chuckle from his lips, and a bitter, tear stained smile from yours. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lips lingering for a moment to remind you that he is there. he wonders to himself if he's allowed to cry, or if he's buried that part of him so deep down that it can only emerge during moments where he's alone.
he's known for the longest time that this would catch up to him. that the crimes of his past would be uncovered, despite his promise to be a good man. he's thrown his life to the wolves and ocean rocks, and he can count the things he's done right on one hand. holding you in his arms, in his life, is one of the few things he hasn't turned to death.
soon, he'd be tracked down again and taken to meursault. but the selfish part of him can't tell you that. he assumes that someone in the agency, someone with a better conscience than him, will sit you down and explain to you the situation. he imagines you not angry, not sad, but disappointed. and for him, its all the more reason to escape and return to you.
he pulls back to press his forehead to yours. he hopes you can't tell how his hands shake. he really is scared.
"i'm sorry there are things i haven't told you." he speaks just below his breath, like his words are intended for your ears alone. "but i promise i'll be back. and when that happens, i'll explain everything."
your head tells you the obvious: that you should be more skeptical, more angry, more wary of him. but your heart, which is so much louder and stronger, whining with a simple premise: that you're going to miss him.
you're caught between the two, so all you do is nod. he knows you aren't satisfied with his answer. but he's on a timer, but he's doing everything he can to stop the world from spinning so he can spend it with you.
as if on instinct, he starts kissing you all over your face. he keeps your cheeks cupped in one hand, tilting your head upwards as he moves down to your neck. you exhale, this time not out of bitterness, but out of relief. right now, only his actions are talking, and he wants to take all of you and savor it. he isn't sure how long he'll have to wait to see you again.
he guides your body onto the bed shivering as he feels your hands grasp his broad shoulders for stability. in an instant, his hands are on the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and discarding it like its unnecessary. he wants to feel your warmth, your skin and bones, to remember why he needs to return home.
in an instant, his and your clothes are off. and heâs positioned himself between your legs, whispering praises into your ears like this was a tryst. he spreads you open, admiring how wet youâve gotten simply from his carefully selected words. he could tease you about it, but he thinks itâd be too easy.
he has two fingers buried into you, up to his knuckles. heâs deliberate with his actions, alternating between careful, slow strokes and rapid bursts of quick thrusts that make your toes curl.
heâs good with his words and his mind, but heâs relentlessly proved that heâs fucking amazing with his hands. he watches as your body tenses with pleasure, reeling from how deep his slender fingers can reach. he adored the way your warm, wet walls greet him, enveloping him like blobs of clay.
your bedsheets are ablaze, screams of his name rolling off of your tongue. he catches a glimpse of the way your breasts have seem to radiate in the warm glow of sex, and he canât help but reach down and take a nipple into his mouth. he moans around it as he feels you clench around his digits further, and he rewards you with a sensual rub to your clit. he makes sure you can see his tongue swirling over your nipple in circles, alternating between sucks and scrapes with his teeth before moving to and lavishing the other.
âare you still with me, love?â he breaks away from your skin momentarily, honeyed eyes looking up at you. he waits for you to say yes, but he knows the answer. based on your involuntary back arches and your moans bordering on crying. heâs dragging this out, and you canât blame him for it, either.
âosa, iâm gonna cum.â you whine, hoping he sees how glossy your eyes are. heâs well aware, and he reaches up with his free hand to caress your face.
heâs been worshipping you all night. but it wouldnât be him if he wasnât torturing you somehow. âhold it for me, bella.â
a pleasured groan escapes your lips, as he works lips down your body, upping the ante. you donât have the energy to argue with him, not when heâs about to suck it all out of you.
heâs mean, spreading the lips of your pussy with his thumb, watching your fluids run down the pretty pink walls. he knows you can feel the warmth of his breath, mingling with the cold air of the room.
keeping you spread, he drags a long, tantalizing lick up your pussy, keeping his tongue flat against the surface. he grins at the way he needs to physically hold your hips down, or else he wonât be able to enjoy his meal.
âeasy.â he whispers, pressing a loving kiss to your clit, triggering your second heartbeat. âlet me take care of you.â
his words are that of a gentle instruction as he starts to eat you out, switching between flat, broad licks and teasing, quick stripes. he shakes his head slightly, smiling to himself as he tastes your juices. its a conscious decision to ignore that he wonât get to eat your pussy again for at least another few months, so heâs savouring what he has now.
he laps at your pussy like heâs starving, licking up every drop like wasting it is a sin. he reaches up to grab one of your tits, giving it a lovingly rough squeeze before refocusing on the task in front of him. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking while he re-integrates his fingers.
the coil in your abdomen is ready to burst at any moment. youâre throbbing, mind an unable to form any other coherent sentences, other than the one you cry out:
âplease let me cum.â you beg, and some may call it pathetic. but dazai isnât the type to leave you unsatisfied.
but he has his fun first, pretending not to hear while he continues eating you out like his final meal. you scream his name out so he and the neighbours hear you.
âi heard you, bella.â he laughs, fingers continuing to work you while he pulls away to speak. âyouâre gonna cum for me, yeah?â
âoh, yes!â you sob as he redoubles his efforts, determined to have you cum in his mouth while he swallows each drop. he swears to himself heâll choose this over anyone else. heâll choose you and him, your love religiously.
he knows heâs done it when you let out sharp gasp, grabbing his hair while your back arches once more. he happily laps up your pretty white juices, even licking his fingers clean after.
he sits up on his knees to watch the way your body shakes and shivers from the high. he cups your pussy, feeling the residual wetness, both of you well aware that you have a long night ahead.
âyou did amazing, my love.â he praises, simply repositioning himself. he lets you tuck away the bangs on his forehead, sticking with sweat and possibly other fluids.
for a moment, you simply stare into each others eyes. theres something utterly holy about the way he holes you, even as he prepares to take you once more.
the pleasure had been so intense, the previous conversation had been almost entirely forgotten. almost.
âosamu?â
he looks uo at you, lingering on your rosy lips before making eye contact. âyes, belladonna?â
you gulp the lingering ache. âyou better come back. to me.â
his stunned for just a moment before his swollen lips curve into a smile. âyou have my word.â
hii same anon who requested the Convo with Dazai fic :3
I'm a bit overindulgent but can I request another đđđ€ maybe like headcanons of ada!Dazai(can you tell i love him) x female ada reader (honestly ada wasn't important i just mentioned it in case) of Dazai being reader's first time? And reader is pretty shy(can you see a pattern in my requests lmao). They can be in an official relationship or smthin more confusing but uhm đđ
it took a hot while for you to have sex. not because you were uncomfortable in any wayâyou were not; but rather because you were too shy. too flustered to continue every time you thought it was, the night. dazai didn't mindâhe found the delay adorable. and more importantly, he was more than happy with just cuddles or make out sessions, or nights that were a thrilling dance upon desire's edge.
and dazai was more than happy to be your first timeâespecially after you came to him yourselfâtelling him that you were ready, that you wanted him. and just hearing that from your lips internally got him up on cloud nine only after he relished the feeling of being trusted with such a raw thing, which was a bit of a surprise to him. not that he minded in the slightest.
he takes his sweet time just softly feeling you up. dazai's hands wander more than he kisses. his kisses are slow, one at a timeâbut his hands don't waste any time cleverly peeling off your clothing without you knowing whenârunning them over your now unclothed thighs, up to your sides, fingertips grazing your ribsâover every inch like it's owed. all while his lips are on yours, captured in a deep, wet kiss. his tongue dances with yours smoothly, stealing your breathing and making you hazyâall so sensually lewd.
you can't help yourself from blushingâit all feels so raw, so intimateâlaid underneath him, bare and exposed yet fully content. his hands are cruel in their patience as he cups one breast, thumb brushing over the hardened peakâmaking you gasp. his lips leave a lingering heat as they press on your neck, his voice sends a shiver down your spin as he whispers sweet nothings in your earâa new, yet pleasant feelingâheatâruns through your body, you feel warm from head to toe, thighs squeezing togetherâbecause it's too much but not enough.
by the time his hand slides down, you're soaked with arousal. slick drips down your thighs, dampening the mattress. your thighs shyly fall open as you tug on his hair with a wanton look in your eyes, suddenly feeling way needier to care how obscene it looksâit gets him twitching against your thigh. he sinks two fingers into youâstretching slow, careful not to overwhelmed you, making you moan low in his ear.
when he finally sinks his cock into you, it's with his mouth open and wet on your neck and your head tilted to the side since you can't hold eye contact because of how flustered you feelâyou feel his breath in hot puffs and a faint smirk on his lipsâthe shyness makes dazai smirk faintly against your skin. like a relief to the desperation that months of waiting, of needing held for you. he takes your hand in his bandaged one, his thumb gently circling the back of your hand as he starts moving. the pace is slow and deepâthe head of his cock hits and fills every aching spot un you so perfectly you can't help but cling onto him, nails digging into his back.
he talks you through it, praising, muttering about how beautiful you look, how pretty you sound fucked-out on his cockâhis own voice breaking from how good and warm and wet you feel around himâeach word pulls a moan out of you that you don't even notice how lews they soundâhead thrown back on the pillow as you feel a tight heat in your lower tummy.
the orgasm comes slowly and steadily with his fingers rubbing your clit and his mouth on that sensitive spot right behind your ear. you cums with a loud moan, body arching sweetlyâa slow, lazy, needy release that rolls through your body while your slick gushes around him, dripping down his cock. and when he feels your tight walls fluttering uncontrollably around him? he breaks too, hips thrusting deeper just a little, enough to have you both cumming together in wet, obscene, lazy bursts that leave you panting into each other's mouths.
afterwards, air is hot with your sweat and breath. your thighs twitch around him, and he doesn't pull out. not right away. Instead, he shiftsâhis arms around your waist. one hand caressing your stomach, where he just filled you to the brim. you're quiet. boneless, still breathing heavy, head tucked under his chin, thigh thrown over his hip as you think about how fucking good it's gonna be every night for now on.
Tw: implied self harm, mention of suicide, scars, mention of abuse, mention of wanting to kill the reader.
I might write write more of these for some other characters if I get inspired but for now I just wrote my favorite characters. Also here are the translations for Nikolai and Fyodors parts ĐłĐŸĐ»Ńб (dove) and ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ°Ń (darling) mind you I don't speak anything other then English so these might not be fully correct.
Dazai Osamu
The moment you really knew Dazai trusted you was when he let you see him with out his bandages, it was such a simple thing, at least to most people it was but with Dazai he wears them like a shield one that hides his ugly past from people and covers up things he'd rather not mention. Dazai knows his skin isn't a very pretty sight, what lied under those bandages wasn't some porcelain skin that he'd rather not show, no it was a matted mess of scars. He really did trust you he trusted you so much he let you see under the shield he keeps between him and other people, he let you run your fingers over his jagged skin, he let you kiss he's wrist that's were littered with scars from the abuse he endured and himself. His skin really was a testament to the abuse he endured and how much he truly wanted to die, it was the ugly real side of it that he always played off with others with laughter or being loud but in the quiet of the little apartment you shared you could see how much all those attempts really effected him all the pain that was left on his skin and that's part of the reason he let you see it, part of the reason he let his walls down for you because to him you deserve to see even the ugliest parts of him the parts the spoke of his pain, the parts he couldn't just play off with a joke or a laugh, he let you see the ugly parts the cold truth of who he was and the things he's done in this life because to him you were the only thing that made this world worth living in, you were who he went to bed to every evening and who made him want to get up in the morning, even if it was just to stare at you sleeping.
I gently unwrapped Dazai's bandages as he sat crisscross on the futon we shared at night, he grabbed my wrist before I could reveal the first part of his skin, he spoke gently. "Are you sure you really want to see" "Yes Osamu I want to see, I love every part of you no matter what" He took a second before letting go of my wrist as he sighed, I finally got them off enough to seeing the first pick of skin, the flesh under the bandages was covered in scars, they seemed to litter every part of his skin. I removed the rest of his bandages slowly before gently running my fingers over a large scar on his shoulder. "I know their ugly" I looked at Dazai when he spoke those words I'd never seen him look so worried about someone's opinion, I cupped his face "their not ugly, they could never be ugly because their apart of you and I love every thing about you even if you dont" He looked at me like he never expected such kindness in his life, like he thought he didn't deserve it. "You're perfect Osamu inside and out" I moved my hand from his face going back to looking over his scars, my heart ached at the thought of all the pain he went through in his life, he cupped my face, tilting my head up so I was looking at his face and not his chest. "I don't deserve you Belladonna" I put my hand on top of his leaning into it, I looked at him before gently placing a kiss on his scarred wrist. "Yes you do Osamu"
Nakahara Chuuya
The moments Chuuya shows how much he trusts you are quite, there things you wouldn't even notice at first, a simply ungloved hand in yours, a story about a family he knows you'll never get to meet, even something as simple as letting you know what's happening at his job there all such simple things, things that to any other person were normal something you'd tell anyone not something you hold close to your chest and protect but that's the thing Chuuya wasn't normal and those quiet moments with you were he got to acted like he was meant the world to him. He loved sharing stories about the people he holds dear with you he knows you'll never get to meet them but they mean so much to him that he wants you to know about them, he trusted you enough to see the fragile part of him that misses them. He loves running his hands over your skin he loves to feel his hands touch against you when he doesn't have gloves on, he loves the fact that when he's with you and you alone just the two of you in your home that he doesn't feel a need to wear them, he doesn't need them to ground him when his with you, he never feels like he's losing himself when his with you. He enjoyed getting to just set down with you after a long day at work and just tell you about all the things that irritated him as he gently ran his fingers over your skin, it was a mindless action that brought Chuuya more peace then he'd ever be able to describe because with Chuuya his trust wasn't some loud declaration, it wasn't something most people would think really spoke to his trust of you like the fact he let's you use his credit card as much as you want, no it was quiet it was the softest parts of himself, it was so quiet and gentle that you couldn't even tell when he started trusting you so much because Chuuya's trust wasn't in the big things it was in the little things he didn't let people see.
I was on the couch with Chuuya he was setting up while I was laying down with my head in his lap, his fingers were gently running up and down one of my arms the gentle warmth of his skin getting left where ever they touched, our home was quiet for the most part the only sound breaking that quiet was Chuuya talking about his day, he was ranting about something one of his subordinates did and despite his irritated tone his hands were light as a feather against me, he was always so gentle with me it was unexpected from a mafia executive but somehow in these moments it suited him so well, I hummed along letting him know I was still listening, I loved moments like this and I knew Chuuya did to moments where it was just us, moments when Chuuya just shared his life with me, it could be anything it didn't even have to be important just knowing Chuuya was willing to let his walls down with me was enough. I noticed he stopped talking, I opened my eyes looking up at him from my spot on his lap. "Is something wrong?" He smiled at me bringing his hand that wasn't stroking my arm up to my face, he gently ran one of his knuckles over my cheek. "Just admiring you" I smiled at him "Well can you keep taking while you do it? I like hearing about your day" His smile seemed to get brighter at my words, he loved having someone to share his life with, someone he trusted enough to tell ever aspect of it to. "Of course doll, anything for you"
Nikolai Gogol
How you know Nikolai trust you is odd to say the least, it isn't something normal and it wasn't sharing his views on the world and life no he'd do what with anyone if the let him talk long enough, no how you know Nikolai trust you is when he fully admitted to considering killing you. It was such a crazy thing for him to admit to anyone let alone someone he was dating but to Nikolai it really just showed how much he liked you because in Nikolai's mind all the trust and love he feels for you is a cage, a cage that he wonders if he could get out of if you were died, it was crazy something no one should think of, especially someone who self proclaimed himself sane, but maybe you also didn't have the right to consider yourself sane because you stayed even when the man you loved described different ways he thought of killing you like it was a hobby of his to come up with them. Still for all he talked about it he never laid a hand on you, never once had he actually gone through with it because even if Nikolai despised the cage his love and trust for you put him in, he had a feeling he'd hate the cage grief put him in more, so as much as he fantasized about killing you, about getting freedom from all that he feels for you, he doesn't because he knows that the pain it would cause him would be worse, he knows he couldn't go through with it no matter how much he wished to, he knows that especially well the nights he watches you sleep his fingers gently running over your neck as he thinks about how easy it would be to choke the life out of you, how easy it would be to be free of you and the feels you held him down with, but then his heart would clench at the mere thought of it so instead of choking the life out of you or snapping your neck with his bare hands he left little kisses on your neck enjoy how you looked in your sleep, because as much as Nikolai hated being in a cage he hated the idea of trading one cage for another just as much, guilt and grief would be just as much of a cage as he's love and trust for you were so he decided to stick to the cage he was already in because in this one he got to have his little dove trapped with him, but if the day ever came where you try to leave the cage, where you try to leave him, he would except the fact that the cage of grief would be his new home.
I was sleeping perfectly, well that was till I started to feel someone's fingers run over my neck, when I woke up from the feeling even in my sleepy state I could tell it was Nikolai, not only only because he's done this before but also because I recognized the gentle way he ran his fingers over my skin it was so soft the kind of softness that reminded me of a cat getting ready to pounce on a bird. Nikolai hummed quietly into the darkness of the room, I recognized the melody but I didn't know the words to it because it was a Ukrainian lullaby and whenever Nikolai singed it it was always in Ukrainian, he started quietly singing the lullaby as he ran his fingers over my neck, as the end of the song neared his hand gently wrapped around my throat, he didn't tighten it but he did start rubbed my neck with his thumb. When the song came to any end he spoke quietly "I could snap your throat ĐłĐŸĐ»Ńб" I stayed still as he just sits in the quiet after saying that, he suddenly leaned down when he did he moved his hand that was covering most of my neck so he could started littering it in kisses. He muttered against my skin "I'm not going to kill you ĐłĐŸĐ»Ńб no matter how much I want to" He kissed my jaw before lightly nibbling on my skin "I'd miss you too much" I knew he knew I was awake when he leaned into my ear whispering "you know that right ĐłĐŸĐ»Ńб? You know I'd rather be stuck in this cage with you then in one all alone right ĐłĐŸĐ»Ńб" He dragged out his last words clearly taunting me, I muttered into the darkness "I know Nikolai" I could hear his crazy little giggle next to my ear before he went back to covering my skin in kisses.
Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor wasn't one for trust, he lived his life with cold calculation not things as fragile as trust, trust could be swayed, it could be used against him and those weren't things Fyodor like, no Fyodor lived his life with facts and a purpose, he keep everything to himself only sharing as much as was necessary to get people to do what he wants, he was the only person he could trust so he kept all his plans to himself, that was until he meet you. Fyodor told you everything, he knew it was dumb, he knew it gave him a vulnerability one that people could exploit but he enjoyed when you asked questions about his plans, when you nodded along to a plan to complicated for you to actually understand. He knew that doing this could ruin all his plans, that by telling you everything he was putting faith in the very thing he knew could be so easy broken trust, he knew you could one day just decide that his plan was two cruel, that he really was the demon everyone saw him as, you could decide to take all the information he gave you and give it to anyone, you could ruin his plan in an instant if you choose to, he knew that but still he told you everything you were the one person he didn't make a back up plan for if he was betrayed you because he knew you wouldn't, he trusted you so much so that he was willing to leave the ability to ruin everything he's worked for in your hands. Fyodor loved the quite moments when he could just set with you having you lay against his chest as he tells you his plans, telling you about what he's dedicated his life to like it was a bedtime story that he told just for you, he loved watching you drift off to sleep as he talked, he loved sharing something so important to him with you because he knew you'd never betray him, Fyodor believes in two things, the cold hard truths of the world that reveal the sin he thinks needs to be cleansed and you.
We were laying on our bed my head was against Fyodor's chest as he talked about his latest plan and all the back up ones he came up with for if current scenarios happened, I was only haft listening because haft the time it just went over my head but when little bits stuck out to me that sounded interesting I did ask and Fyodor always happily answered. His hand rubbed my back gently, he spoke softly "Are you listening ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ°Ń?" I him nodding against his chest "I'm listening" that was slightly a lie but haft listening counted, Fyodor just looked at me for a bit before saying "if I'm boring you ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ°Ń with all this planing I can talk about something else" I looked up at him "no no keep talking about your plans I like to hear about what matters to you" He smiled before going back to speaking, I tried to stay awake while he talked but his voice was just so soothing, I slowly drifted off to sleep as he talked, he smiled down at me softly saying "Sleep well ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ°Ń"
Edogawa Ranpo
You know Ranpo trusts you when he actually listens to your opinions, he actually takes the time to hear out what you think and when he disagrees he doesn't just call you a moron he actually takes the time to explain to you where your train of thought went wrong and how he came to his conclusion, Ranpo usually didn't take the effort to explain stuff that were so obvious to him but really wasn't to other people, but with you he actually wanted to explain it because you always looked so impressed in him and if there was one thing Ranpo loved it was praise especially if it came from someone who's opinion he actually valued. Ranpo loved hearing your theories on things even if they were wrong, because Ranpo loved seeing how your brain works, he wants to know everything about you especially how you think. He constantly asked your opinion, honestly he asked it so much people are suppressed you aren't sick of it, whether it be something he doesn't need help with like a case or something he really does like directions and his absolute favorite thing to ask about sweets, he loved getting your opinion on sweets whether it be which sweets you like more or which ones you think he'd like the most, when ever you recommend any type of sweet he made a point to try it because he respected your opinion a lot and if you thought he'd like it then his sure he would.
Me and Ranpo were walking back from one of his jobs, even with all the jobs I've went on with him I still couldn't believe how smart he was it always impressed me "you really amazing Ranpo" he smiled at me, Ranpo always did enjoy getting praised "I know" I chuckled not surprised about that answer from Ranpo "how about we get sweets to celebrate a good well done?" Ranpo looked at me smiling brighter. "Of course let's get sweets, what type of sweet do you think we should get?" It had become normal that when ever we got sweets together Ranpo would always ask me to pick I wasn't sure why he did it but it always made me happy seeing him enjoy something I recommend "There's this new bakery I went to the other day it was pretty good, how about we go see what they have?" He nodded "that sounds great! Lead the way" I started leading us to the bakery, even if I didn't realize the reason Ranpo always got me to choose was because he respected my opinion I still enjoyed showing him new places.
Hi hun, could you maybe do either a gender neutral or female reader that pretends to be dumb but is actually hyper intelligent? Like the reader would do this to maybe protect themselves from being used by people for their smarts. Any characters would be cool đ pp gang out
synopsis; in which reader pretends to be dumb, but is actually smarter than they act out to be.
featuring: dazai, chuuya, atsushi, and ranpo
a/n: LOOKâWRITING GUYS, AND OF COURSE I ADDED DAZAI BECAUSE IM OBSESSED.
warnings: lowercase writing, not proof-read
gif credits
DAZAI finds you intriguing. you act as a child when they just learned how to count to ten. you seem to be oblivious when he speaks to you, he uses this for his entertainment.
speaks to you in riddles just to see your confused puppy face. always brushing it off with a "nevermind that, how was your day, love?"
alas, your little act didn't go on for long with him as much as you hoped it would. he caught on within a dayâonly pretending to believe you to see how long you go on with this silly little lie of yours.
he would drop puzzles into your guys conversations, throw some theories in your face just for fun, and use big words you may or may not have actually heard of before.
sure enough, his little experiment worked and your poker face surely cracked here and there. a too-fast correction. a twitch in they eye when he says something incredibly stupid. and your eyes? well, you can't dull the sharpness out of them forever.
and that's when dazai confronts you finallyâbut not in a hostile way. he would have you both in a secluded space, maybe once you both have finished your papersâand buy "both" i mean "you"âand everyone in the office has stepped out.
he would smile at youâknowing he read you like a book without you ever knowing.
"well aren't you just a cute little genius, hmm? what wasn't smart was you thinking you can keep up that act with me," you sighed at his teasing voice.
"want to tell me why you decided to lie, or shall i crack that case as well?"
you opened up about this being a way for you to protect yourself from being using you for your smartsâas people would only speak to you like your walking google.
bracing for the teasing; dazai said something that shattered your brown completelyâ"it's okay, 'bella. i know what it's like to hide who you are to survive."
CHUUYA doesn't know how to react to you at first. he's met people in the mafia who are slow, a bit of a dunce, but you just took his brain cells away. hates to admit it, but your cute, cute as hell. which is why he's with you. you're a little bit clumsy and a bit slow when it comes to taking orders.
he would open jars for you, answer your questions after a meeting with the boss, and caught onto your "confused" looks and simply sighed before slowly explaining the situation to you.
you make him feel more of the sharp one around you.
he tries not to lose his patience, in front of you at least, however poor akutagawa and tachihara had to endure countless moments of chuuya tweak out about you. he also tweaks out how adorable you are when you ask him for support, like when you told him how much you loved cloudsâbesides them making mean, scary faces at you an they are too high up in the sky for you to "show them a lesson." fucking adorable, your adorable! just really knows how to push his buttons.
then came a mission-a mission that has blown your little secret. the two of you were assigned to interrogate with some shady clients who were caught sneaking around of the port mafias secluded areas. chuuya couldn't get any information out of them, no matter the torture methods he used against them. until they started to confess in a coded languageâsomething their gang must only be able to understand because he's never heard this language before in his life.
he tossed a chair to the wall close to the hostages; about to just kill them until you replied to one of the gang members in the same language. same pronunciation and fluencyâtheir faces growing cold when they realized you could understand what they were saying.
chuuya stared at you while you spoke with the hostages as if you had grown a second head.
you ended up being the one to get this mission to be another successful one for the mafia; and that's when chuuya confronted you.
"what hell was that back at the interrogation?"
"what was what?"
"the fucking you suddenly knowing how speak a whole new language!? what the hell are you not telling me?"
oh. well. guess the cats out of the bag. you explained to him that you were scared the port mafia would eventually start to use you as some kind of object, knowing you were as smart as they think you are.
what pissed chuuya off the most was you thinking he would just use you for your smarts and leave once he got bored.
you expected him to be a tad bit upset, however this was something even your smart couldn't think would happen. "if you think i was ever going to use you, then maybe your not as smart as you think, doll. show off how fucking smart you are, you could get on mori's really good side and hell maybe even get promoted to a higher rank."
ATSUSHI fully believed your act. poor boy actually thought you were just really slow and took longer to understand certain things.
he sees you get all spaceyâand has never once ever made fun of you or called you out. he would always give you the biggest smile and help you out.
that's what you liked about him. how he never expected anything from you and would give you room to breathe.
he would stick up for you when others would call you out, "heyâleave them alone, talk to me if you have any problems!"
he will never take anyone mocking you or calling you stupid when they don't even know you. and if it was someone from the agency, atsushi will honestly get even more aggressive towards you.
he wants you to know there's nothing wrong with you. and there's nothing wrong with being a bit slow, but if you try to get better; which is what he tries to help you with, that's all that matters!
you honestly start to feel bad keeping this lie from him for so longâhe genuinely believes you and you feel so guilty..
"atsushi..can i talk to you for a moment?" you voice soft and gentle.
"of course, y/n!"
you and him took a step out of the office, making sure it was only you and him before you confessed your lie.
there's a silence that was oddly loud in your ear; not knowing how he would react. would he actually get really mad at you for lying, did he want to break up with you now?
suddenly he took your arms and pulled you close to him, his voice gentle and calm when he askedâ"why do you feel the need to hide this side of you from me. you know i love you, i would never use you or treat you any different! and if anyone does, then they'll wish they just kept their mouths shut."
RANPO clocked you in about 0.2 seconds. of course he didn't out you right away, he played along with this little act of yours. seeing how long it will take for you to know he caught on.
he is a lot like dazai in this scenario; loves watching you squirm each time he gets close to exposing you to other people. he would get you to solve some tricky questions to help solve a case the agency would be doing, or purposefully say something so wrongâeven the agency members started to grow suspicious.
you were smart-smart, not just logicalâstrategic, emotionally intelligent, and observant. loved that about you, he just knows you and him would click instantly if you had just out- right told him!
when the two of you were in private, maybe it's just you and him in the office. you are finishing writing reports and he's munchy some candy. that's when he decided to speak up, cornering you like a cat with its favorite toy.
you were smart enough to not act stupid anymore, sighing and putting the pen down. you dropped the bomb, telling him why you hide yourself from the public, scared they would use you.
"you know, it's cute how you can think you can lie to the world's greatest detective! i have to say i admire your act!"
Your hands, trembling slightly as you carried the tray of freshly brewed coffee.
You pushed the door open with your shoulder as you entered inside , two of his men stood rigidly before his desk. They didnât dare look at you. They stared straight ahead, sweat on their temples.
And then there was him.
Osamu Dazai. The youngest executive in Port Mafia history.
You moved silently, placing the coffee cup on the corner of his desk. As you leaned forward you held your breath, willing your hands to be stone.
They failed.
A minuscule tremor made the spoon on the saucer clink. It was a sound no louder than a pin drop, yet in the suffocating silence of the room, it was a like a gunshot.
âLeave itâ
âI-I apologize, Dazai-san. I will return with a fresh one.â
âI said leave it.â
He leaned back. Then, he crooked a single finger at you.
âCome here.â
He reached out, his hand closing around your wrist then pulled you down onto his lap.
His attention then back to his men as if nothing had happened. His arm was around your waist.
âContinue, you were explaining the⊠efficiency of your method.â
âW-we subdued him, sir. A simple message. The usual.â
Dazaiâs fingers began to trace patterns on your hip.
âThe usual, how uninspired. But I suppose thatâs what I pay you for. Mediocrity.â
His hand slid lower, his thumb pressing into the soft flesh of your waist. You flinched, his grip tightened, a command to be still.
âWe have a name, sir. Itâs a low-level informant. A man named Sato.â
His other hand came up, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
â A father, I believe. Two young children. Tell me, little maid. What do you think should happen to a man like that? A man who betrays the people who trust him?â
âI⊠I donâtâŠâ
âHe has a daughter, sheâll find work as a maid, too. Cleaning up the messes of men who donât care if she lives or dies.â
He knew. He knew about the late nights you spent hiding in the laundry room, crying over the men youâd seen him drag in. He knew you would treat his victims.
His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulled your head back, exposing the column of your throat.
âYou treated him, you saw him brought i bleeding, you left water by the cell door.â
He didnât wait for a response. His lips crashed against yours his teeth grazing your lower lip, a sharp sting that made you gasp. His hand in your hair held you captive, tilting your head to the angle he desired.
This was a lesson. He was branding you in front of his men, marking you as his property, his to play with, his to punish.
Over his shoulder, you could see his men. One of them had his eyes squeezed shut, the other was staring at a spot on the wall.
âBring him to me. Iâll deliver the message myself, youâre dismissed and close the door behind you.â
Dazaiâs thumb stilled on your knee. He didnât look at you.
âYou may go nowâ
his voice devoid of all warmth, all the terrifying intimacy of moments before.
âand remember, the man you feed everyday in cell number 207, feed him again, and Iâll have him skinned.
There's a mild likelihood that Dazai would be a yandere. Given his belief that he's predestinated to lose everything he has eventually, if he falls too hard for his darling, finally giving him some joy in his miserable existence, he would loathe to ever let go.
Whining in that specific tone he knows would make his darling relent, using those puppy doe eyes â especially when you're going out with a friend on a night he wanted to spend with you :(
"Bella... how could you do this to me? Here I was thinking could spend the night together. But I suppose it's alright... just leave me here to die in this miserable puddle of my existence!" đ
Very dramatic.
He'd make you laugh first, and probably tackle you down, tickling, and smother you in kisses till you can't stop giggling.
...tiring you out just enough to be a little too tired to go, so you decide to spend the night with him.
Little do you know he texted your friend and hour ago from another number, pretending to be you, changing your meet-up spot so you wouldn't be able to find them anyway at first (by the time you would figure it out that there was a misunderstanding, it would have been too late at night anyway đ)
Oh, he never liked that friend of yours anyway.
He'd never let you know how much you mean to him â except on very few rare nights that seemed to pass by in a dreamlike trance.
He knows, deep down, that nothing is ever permanent. Maybe, if you find out how you might be the only thing keeping him from more dangerous suicide attempts, it could scare you away.
What if you find out how much you mean to him and it terrifies you...?
No â he'd rather not have that.
He doesn't want you to know how you're the last place left where he can breathe freely.
The only place other than solitude that comforts him.
Jealousy is an emotion that's foreign to him. There isn't much in this world he couldn't cheat his way into getting guilt-free. He doesn't believe in morals â after all, they're just a social construct humans developed. A leash to keep society intact, an instrument for law, punishment.
But when it comes to you...
Ah, there's not a huge difference. But a difference nonetheless.
As long as you're willing to be with him, stay with him, and are happy with him, he'll keep his manipulative behaviours at bay. Minimal. Used only when necessary.
Oh, he's not a good man.
A darling won't change his inherent personality, you know. Or his amorality.
You know, you should feel honoured. Falling in love for him is an occurence that happens once a blue moon and a half. I feel like he's fallen in love before...
...but only once during his teenage years. It would've been fleeting, intense.
While he was in the Port Mafia.
Maybe he fell for a girl he saw from afar who captivated him... making him end up stalking and finding out every bit and piece of her life by midnight.
He would talk to her casually, a few times, creating a casual friendship between them â slipping in a few deeply personal questions that alarmed her, (ones he already knew the answer of), brushing them away as likes laughingly.
Making the girl see him as an absurd, comical friend.
Perhaps he developed a deep infatuation. Perhaps he found out she already had a partner. Perhaps he fell out of love just as quickly and drastically as he fell in.
Perhaps it made him cynical about love and how he was unsuitable for it.
Perhaps it has been his only encounter with even the slightest semblance of love before you.
He doesn't want to let you go. He knows he'll lose you one day, but he wants to have you while he can.
He's selfish.
And love is such an addicting drug, alcohol and pills stand nowhere near.
You're his strange addiction.
P.S. I feel like this song is exactly him in a love like this.
Hi, I hope everything is alright. I apologize in advance if my English is bad, it's not my first language. I saw that request (for Dazai) where the reader has a deadly touch, but what if it were the opposite? Like, the reader could revive people, I think it would be especially interesting if they had never told Dazai before.
I thought it would be funny, but feel free to deny the requestđȘ»
dazai x reader â the touch of life
tags: sfw
a/n: hi lovely, i loved the idea, tnx for requesting! âĄ
when you first got into the agency, there wasn't so many chances where you could showcase your abilityâsince the armed detectives usually did their job thoroughly well. so you just stuck to your paperworkâglad that the agency put people's mind at ease before the situation got dire enough that someone would be in need of your ability.
though that changed on a one particularly challenging mission that was assigned to you and none other than your charm himselfâdazai. you were notified of a victim in critical conditionâa crime waiting to be solved. though when you got there, the person was on his last breathsâand it had already been too late.
dazai had stood thereâface grimâyet his eyes were stoic, almost deprived of any emotionâhe was not new to seeing people die, considering his gloomy past. though when he glanced at you, he was expecting a face twisted with sorrow and concernâto his shock however, he was met with serious eyes and a blazing gazeâan expression that displayed a calm, collected serenity in it's certainty.
despite his internal astonishment, dazai remained silent and ponderedâas to what could possibly cause you to be this level-headed; as if you hadn't seen a man just take his last breaths in front of youâyou seemed unaffected, like you thought he was going to be reborn. he didn't know that was quite the whole truth. it was then that your moment to shine finally had arrived. you made your way to the harmed manâhand steady as you pressed it against his forehead.
it took only a mere second before sound of chocked gasps of breath were heard.
people around you stood surprisedâmomentarily motionless before the sudden gasps were heard and they were rushing to tend to the victim and his injuries; the questioning for the crime committed could be asked later, you thought.
you turned around with a satisfied smile, ready to go backâand were met with a stunned, wide-eyed dazai. you could swear you even saw sparkles in his eyes for a secondâcue to him gushing over how extraordinary and incredible your ability wasâwhy you hadn't used it beforeâwhy didn't you tell anyone about it- and so on. it was kind of endearing, actually. it wasn't often that you saw dazai genuinely intrigued by something. so you decided to cut him some slackâand told him all about your ability on your walk back to the agency, about how it worked, what limits it had, what could be the consequences if you used it too muchâpinky laced with his as he listened with his full attention on youâeyes soft and gaze adorned with admiration.
after that incident, you now have to deal with a whole new wave of his teasings in the office. he jokes a lot about how apparentlyâ"he can no longer succeed in his long-awaited suicide anymore; because you'll just revive him back", which would be false as his ability clashes with any otherâbut he can't use it while dead, can he?
you always laugh it off; but deep in your hearts, you both know that it's true. though all jokes aside, all the praise coming from him is true. when you're in Yokohama, you'll be met with all sorts of abilitiesâand most of them take lives without blinking. other ones do healâbut not many of them reincarnate. and the way you can grant people the gift (or curse) of another chance in life? of being reborn? it's almost holy to him. which is the reason as to why your ability is so special in his eyes.
you ability also puts his mind at easeâthat with you, the agency doesn't have to worryâeven about dying. and everytime you do your thingâconfident and calm, he might not say anything; but you always catch to look on his faceâpure, adoring, proud.
The idea of love, genuine love, was a terrifying notion to Osamu Dazai. Sure, he was a flirt at times but the idea of genuinely falling for someone was something else entirely. So, when he found himself falling for you, a large part of him wanted to run or push you away. Osamu was too weak for you to do that though. The idea of being the cause of any of your distress was awful. And doing it on purpose? Forget it. Even if he did think it would be for your own good.Â
Of course, there were still times where heâd try convincing you that you shouldnât be with him. You were too good for him. This was the crux of most of the arguments you two had. Osamu was selfish enough to let you win and keep you with him though. Heâd deal with the guilt of it later if it came to it. You were a vulnerability that he never expected to have. He knew that something in him would irrevocably shatter if you died.Â
Which is why when he kisses you, he kisses you like itâs the last time he will. It always lingers like heâs trying to memorize you. Of course, there are times he does quick kisses but itâs not what heâd prefer. He loved you and that was terrifying. His only lifeline after Oda and even if he knows that you can take care of yourself, it seems so fragile.Â
As much as he talks about dying or committing a double suicide with you, heâd never go through with it if it meant hurting you. His life might not mean much to him, but your life is everything to him. Itâs not an exaggeration or cheesy for him when he says that youâre the light of his life. His kisses were almost a silent goodbye, just in case. He loved you and it was both the best and worst thing that ever happened to him.
post-breakup dazai, who is so used to masking he isnât sure how to take it off. who lets you become one of the only people in his life he has truly grieved. who would never dare speak of your absence (because then it feels too real) but who feels it in every other sense. who has now lost the the two people in his life he felt the most human around, one to a bullet and the other to heartbreak.
post-breakup chuuya, who seems to have eggshells scattered around him for anyone who dares to go near. who keeps your photo on his desk broken and face down, because if he looks at your face heâll be looking at someone who cared. who tries to find the antidote at the bottom of a bottle, chasing down the feeling with whiskey and sleeping pills. who throws punches and kicks not because he enjoys the fight, or because its his job, but because heâs simply passing time.
post-breakup ranpo, who is suddenly 10x more needy and 10x more insufferable because he lost one of the only people whose opinion matters. who can no longer even think for a moment that heâs the best or the greatest or whatever buzzword the agency throws at him. who tries to overcorrect and make up for what he lost, because in his eyes, losing you was a failure, a miscalculation on his part.
post-breakup atsushi, who already harbours so many insecurities and doubts that only get worse afterwards. who feels tired in every sense, only letting out shaky breaths, unable to get rid of of the pit in his stomach that spells out regret. who one day simply stops talking and waits to see how long itâll take before someone notices. the answer only depresses him more.
post-breakup akutagawa, who shuts down any part of him that feels any ounce of sadness over you. who suddenly feels his illness tenfold, like you had taken all the air with you when you left. who sees the world devoid of any colour and convinces himself that its better that way. that you were weak and didnât serve him. who punches a hole in the wall the one time he cries over you. who feels your absence tear through his lungs with each coughing fit.
post-breakup kunikida, who throws himself into work- its the last thing he has, anyway. who doesnât normally discard pages in his notebook unless its for missions, but proceeds to tear out any pages that even mention you (there were many, but when asked why, heâd simply say it wouldnât be ideal to be reminded of you constantly.) who knows that he is the backbone of the agency and carries that mantle humbly, but who feels a sudden prick of an urge to stay in bed.
post-breakup odasaku, who still continues writing to you. who loses you but still lets you exist in words on paper, in each poem or short story he creates. who knows youâll never read them, but makes sure to dedicate each page to you just in case. who cringes but hides it when his kids ask about you, about when heâll bring you around again and when theyâll see you again. he asks the same question with every word he writes.
consider.....if you will.......dazai using his hands everywhere but only above the waist...
..hands teasing your chest, gripping around your throat...maybe fisted in your hair or..maybe when you're on your knees and he demands eye contact while he slips his fingers past your lips, teasing your tongue, and rubs his thumb back and forth over your lips; saying with a sweet, sick, smug tone:
"oh? finally quiet hm? interesting how some things can be communicated without a single word said.
your eyes tell me that you're impatiently buzzing over something you want....can you tell what's in mine?
...be good for me, bella? since my fingers are already in your mouth, do you mind cleaning them for me while undo my belt?
there we go, just like that. perfectâi said eyes on me, bella. i want to see just how much you enjoy the taste."
in the words of ango sakaguchi talking about dazai, "...you nasty man.".
â.á MDNI +18 only â.á
note: the things that i have thought alone, let alone said out loud, and publicly online about him, make me unable to run for office (âąáŽâąïœĄ) EDIT: SOMEHOW MISSED F HERE TOO â UPDATED! <3
tw: edg*pl*y, suc*dl ideation, overstimulation
A = Aftercare (what is he like after sex?)
As annoying and predictable as it is, I think we know that it depends on his mood "( â â â ) He's either going to be teasing you for being fucked senseless or tending to you cautiously like he holds his favorite tattered and dog-eared to hell book or quietly tracing kanji onto your shoulder blade as you lay across his lap as he reads an excerpt from his current favorite poetry book to you. Definitely the type to flow with the moment, meaning he may not get up immediately, opting to wait until both of your heartbeats slow down enough to breathe normally again. He may be a sarcastic shit but he is a giver, he is an (undercover overlover). Just like the black cat that he is, you will feel his quiet affections somehow, but he may take his time savoring the moment.
"My, my bella. Look at you. You're quite the mess. Here, let me help."
B = Body part (his favorite body part of his and yours)
his body: fingers
He knows he has pretty hands and very nice long and slender fingers. He knows the effect they have visually and for sure the effect physically. There has never been nor will there ever be a time that if he uses his fingers that you are not seeing stars. He loves to tease so he loves to drag his finger along objects of attention or especially skin (teasingly or affectionately). He loves how much you love his hands and what they do to you â whether its passively holding them or pulling them away after you came so hard you're losing consciousness and he keeps going with a smirk on his face.
your body: torso (front/back)
He loves to observe your body from his fascination with humans. The beauty of the body is something he silently cherishes beyond being a gross flirt (borderline teenage boy behavior). The smooth expanse of your torso, front or back, is something he could stare at (and does) for hours.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum)
His appreciation for your torso, of course means, that he loves to spill on you. Anywhere, all over. To see his ownership on you gets him off. Alternatively, and equally, that ownership extends to overfilling you inside over and over until it's seemingly endlessly spilling out, if he can help it. Definitely the type to both scoop it back in or slide it on his finger into your mouth (freak).
D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of his)
He's actually quite the romantic. He's so detail-oriented as an annoyingly-genius detective, he also notices the little things about you that he comes to find endearing. The slight in your mouth when you're focusing hard on writing or typing out a particularly difficult case, the keychain on your bag with the little bell he can hear from down the hall before you walk in, the copy of your well-loved favorite book on your desk, used as your adoring coffee cup coaster everyday. He doesn't realize he's keeping track of these things until he's too far deep (an internal "uh-oh" on his part). He would never let anyone catch wind of this weakness, he is well aware of how easily they can be exploited and ripped away in the blink of an eye.
E = Experience (How experienced is he?)
Being the notorious flirt that he is, he's charmed his way into a few beds. However, he enjoys the playing of the game more than winning. In moments of weakness, being unable to cope with whatever is plaguing his mind at the time, he has indulged in detached, meaningless sex. Attachment is something he actively avoids. That being said, he does still have his ego, so he's finely-tuned his techniques. He knows what he likes and knows just what will make someone scream.
F = Favorite Position (what is his favorite way to take you?)
I think The Favorite has to be backshots in any variation: bent over a bathroom counter, standing with your back arched in the supply closet, on all fours, or your chest to the bed with your knees down and he yanks your ass up by gripping your hips hard enough to bruiseâhowever, the condition is: he must be able to grab your face and force you to turn and look at him. He is gripping your chin and pulling you into a filthy kiss, devouring your whimpers, and offering his own hunger-being-satiated moan back into your mouth with a sick, amused smile that you're completely undone on his cock and how he gives it to you. I still think he's more of a tits guy, but something about taking you from behind, playing with your tits or generally playing with any parts from behind, and likely choking you by wrapping a hand around or pinning your neck to the wall/bed is *chefs kiss*. I think it's hotter to him to force you to reveal how fucked dumb and desperate you are, by hitting it from the back, and refusing to let you hide your face/reactions/sounds. Another way to explain the reason is his love to tease:
"Now don't hide from me, bella. I couldn't hear you. Let me help *grips your face to turn and face him*...theeere she is. Did you say something about going to cum? Mm, not till I say, bella. I think I can make you beg for it. *squishing your face more in his hand* You're gonna beg, bella â understand? Tell me you understand.
G = Goofy (Is he more serious in the moment? Or humorous? etc.)
Are you kidding? He is weaponizing his goofiness 24/7. He antagonizes the hell out of you for his own pleasure (just a smidge of degradation) just to remind you how, literally, under his thumb you are.
H = Hair (How well-groomed is he?)
He cares about the little details, but doesn't obsess. As lazy and showing up late as he can be, it's because he's taking his time doing exactly what he wants. Which happens to be having a getting ready routine that may be the most stable thing in his life besides Chuuya being pissed off every time he sees him. Part of this routine involves: a strict breakfast of coffee and a cig, a leisurely shower (not caring to actually wash his hair ever, however his body will always be clean and fresh but not maintained), air-drying his mess of hair, and putting on that goddamned bolo tie. Besides keeping this routine for his edging sanity, showing up late to piss off Kunikida is part of the routine too. Basically: most of the focus is being selectively fresh and pissing off Kunikida.
I = Intimacy (How is he during the moment? Romantically.)
He's a mixed bag. Temperamental. I think at a certain point, once enough of his walls come down, it is just about romantic intimacy. Compared to other occasions he has slept with someone, he isn't detached and is actually quite invested in your reaction, your pleasure, and satisfaction with him. He cares to be a memorable experience (in a way, to make you crawl back to him to get fucked dumb â but he'd never admit that it's also so you stick around him because he might kind of like you a little bit.). Crossing the romantic threshold, he's the type of tender that will hold you tightly but hold your face gently (almost as if he's worried you will disappear if he looks away or loosens his grip ever so slightly, and he cannot live through losing someone he's let in again). One thing is for sure, you will have his full attention, for both your sakes.
J = Jack off (masturbation)
I can't say I can see him doing it very often. I think he'd rather seek out his weakness in another body or drink away the desire â at least until he meets you. Almost feel like he has an aversion to physical contact (ability related? perhaps). Then it becomes the quickly building tension, you're unaware of, given his mass flirtatious aloofness, where his locked away feelings in words get trapped behind his teeth, and, well his inability to open his mouth and desire to put his hands on you go straight to his dick. For sure ends up at his desk pretending he doesn't care about anything until you bend over in your little skirt to pick up his paperwork he carelessly let fall off the desk, and he catches a peek at your chest, your thighs as you stand up, and your intoxicating perfume â definitely rock hard in an instant and pretends he's bored and going home for the day (he's definitely taking care of it in the agency bathroom, but he'd never let anyone figure out someone got to him that deeply.)
K = Kink (one or more of his kinks)
PRAISE/DEGRADATION:
He is absolutely talking you through it â he never shuts the fuck up! He loves nothing more than to play with an ego and he will make sure you know just who owns you and who's cock you're going dumb on. He will praise you mockingly in the same breath that he says something dehumanizing. The duality of man that he has is ridiculous. He is so mean, simply for fun.
"You're taking me so good, bella. You're doing so good. Ah-ah, eyes on me, my little fucktoy."
overstimulation/powerplay:
This is in the same vein as the praise/degradation, he wants you to remember the time spent with him, to remember you'll always be underneath him â or so he thinks until he's spent a night with you. He'd never consider it being submissive, but for entertainment's sake, he would enjoy powerplay. I mean, twist his arm, you know? A hot body wants to top him and maybe bring him within an inch of his life (his lovely suicidal dreams) and he's the one getting overstimulated â he'd let you have your fun, but make sure to pay his brat back.
EDGEPLAY:
You cannot convince me he has not tried using a gun or knife during foreplay or during. Life and death is a meaningless form of entertainment to him. He would love nothing more than to weaponize that with pleasure. Along the lines of powerplay, he would keep a gun or knife underneath your jaw or scratch a knife down the center of your chest, drawing a bit of blood every now and then (in addition: he for sure bites and leaves evidence of ownership: bruises, cuts, teeth-marks). He is for sure a sadist and masochist â taking things too far makes him feel alive.
"Does it sting? Good. You're doing so good for me, you're still here. I can hear you whimpering, you like it when I press the blade nice and tight under your jaw. Don't you, belladonna?"
L = Location (favourite places to take you)
Literally anywhere. He doesn't care whatsoever. I'd even venture to say, he would be entertained for someone to come across you getting your guts rearranged. Definitely the type to let his intrusive thoughts win (we know this) so his impulsive behavior is as strong as his surprising willpower (this man loves playing stupid). Has definitely followed you out of the agency main office, grabbed you by your wrist, and yanked you into a supply closet for a tryst he cannot pretend he's fine with waiting for. He will take you whenever he can, given your consent, of course (we love a consent king) â but he won't back down quietly, he WILL complain and pout.
"Very well, bella. But you can't blame me, you look delectable and I'm just so hungry."
M = Motivation (What turns him on, gets him going?)
Initially, his interest being piqued and wanting to play with his food. No one really catches his attention, he's fairly bored with humanity as a whole, typically expecting the worst of humanity. Something about you interests him (it's called having a crush) and he has to get to the bottom of it. He knows the effect he has on women and loves to tease so goddamned much, it's so annoying (he loves it). However, he does find himself occasionally uncharacteristically nervous around you when you actually look him in the eyes with your earnest, sweet, curious eyes. It quickly becomes a craving, a fix he has to have, which is being in your presence and interacting with you however he can â the more flirtatious and physical, the better. He has to understand this interest (it's called a crush) and until he realizes his motivations are just called affection and adoration, he will continue to try and play with his food until he realizes he is tightly wrapped around your finger even tighter than his own bandages.
um.....à«źê° Ë¶âą àŒ âąË¶ê±á ⥠â part 2 available here (˶ᔠᔠá”˶)
i'm so disgusting about dazai, um do not look at me rn! i know he'd be able to handle how much of a freak i am đȘ(˶ᔠᔠá”˶) um sorry if this was a lot for some of you, i am Not Well in the head and a longtime dazai kinnie. :')
hihi!! im so glad ur active again ,, i hope everythings alright
could i req chuuya finding bulimic reader almost passed out (like shaking n slightly sobbing) in the bathroom after purging and they js panic cause they didnt want him seeing them like this so he starts comforting them n all that
i completely understand if ur not comfortable w it / dk how to portray it
a/n: hello, i loved writing this requests, i hope I've portrayed it well. ⥠just a thing, i decided not to ignore this, bc this was sent when reqs were closed, so please look at my req status before requesting from now on! hope you enjoy! âáą. .áąâ âËâčâĄ
(take care of urself everyone âĄ)
the door shouldnât have been locked. thatâs the first thing he noticed. the silence was next. it was the kind of quiet that felt wrong. not peacefulâjust⊠absent. and chuuya wasn't the kind of person who hesitated when something felt off, and this felt wrong in a way that settled deep in his chest. he pushed it open gently, already halfway calling your name, already expecting something small, something explainableâ
the bathroom light was too harshâtile too white, mirror too honest, every tremor impossible to hide. you were hunched over the toilet when the door opened, hands shaking so badly you couldnât even hold onto the edge properly. your throat burned with that familiar ache, your chest hurt, and there was that awful, hollow dizziness creeping inâyou were not properly collapsed but close enough that the difference didnât matter much.
your breathing was stuttering in uneven pieces, catching and breaking in your throat repeatedly, as if your lungs had forgotten how to work normally. you sharply turned around and instantly felt itâpanic, sharp and immediate, your heart dropping. and there was that quiet, broken soundâlike you were trying not to sob but your body wasnât quite listening.
you gripped the edge of the toilet tightly, trying to hold yourself up despite the room spinning over your head like you mind was mocking you, ânoâ no, fuck, donâtââ your voice cracked, raw, âchuuya, justâjust go, pleaseâiâm fine-â
your breath caught again, not letting you finish your words. this was worse than anything. worse than the nausea, worse than the purgeâhim seeing you like this. the sound that left you wasnât even a proper word, just a broken, wet breath as you tried to turn away, one hand coming up like it could hide everythingâlike you could stop him from seeing you, from understanding you.
his voice cut through, shaking and startledâlaced with something like disbelief, "hey-"
"donâtââ you cut him off, sounding thin and hopeless. âdonât look at meââ
âno, no, no,â chuuyaâs voice dropped instantly to something soft and gentle, like he was talking to something fragile to the tone of his voice. âdonât do that. donât hide from me.â
he was already moving. his hands were on you before you could pull awayâone steady at your back, the other gently but firmly catching your wrist, grounding you when your balance slippedâyou hadnât even realized you were swaying until he pulled you against him.
âiâve got you,â he murmured, closer now, voice right by your ear. âhey⊠iâve got you. easy.â
you shook your head, a weak, frantic motion. âi didnâtâi didnât want you toââ
âi know,â he cut in softly, not dismissive or sharpâjust certain. âi know, sweetheart. i know.â
your breathing stuttered again, and that was itâwhatever composure you were clinging to just⊠broke. you grabbed his shirt, buried your face into his chest, and held on like you were terrified he'd vanish as the sobs started to break through, quiet at first, then harder, messier.
chuuya didn't say anything, just pulled you closer, tighter. his hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, and your forehead pressed somewhere against his collarbone. your body folded into his without you meaning to, like something in you gave up trying to stay upright on your own. his arm wrapped more securely around you, hand splayed wide against your back, anchoring you there.
âthatâs it⊠come here,â he murmured, softer now, slower as you felt his thumb gently tracing over your nape. âno need to fight it anymore. iâve got you.â
your fingers twisted tighter, harder into his shirt, and this time he didnât just allow itâhe leaned into it, like he wanted you to hold on. his fingers gently slid your hair, keeping you close.
your breath hitched again, but softer this time, breaking into him instead of away from everything. your face pressed further in, hiding there, and he adjusted without a wordâtilting his head slightly so it wouldnât be uncomfortable, his chin resting on top of your head.
âshh⊠iâve got you, baby,â he murmured, voice barely above a breath now, meant just for you. âyouâre okay. youâre right here. stay with me.â
your breathing stuttered again, but it followed his this time. uneven stillâbut trying. syncing in small, fragile attempts.
the shaking didnât stop right away eitherâbut it changed. it wasnât that frantic, out of control trembling anymore. it started to match something steadier, the slow rhythm of his breathing, the quiet rise and fall of his chest under your cheek, the way his hand kept moving in those small, repetitive circles on your back like he was teaching your body how to calm down again.
âthere you go,â he whispered, almost like a quiet praise. âthatâs it⊠just like that. donât rush. iâm right here.â
your body felt heavy all of a sudden. not in that awful, sinking way where it felt like drowningâbut more like you didnât have to hold yourself up anymore, like the tension had somewhere to go, somewhere safe to restâcombined with the exhaustion that only came after holding everything in for too long.
"youâre alright,â he murmured again, softer each time, like he was layering the words into you. âiâve got you doll. iâve got you. youâre safe with me.â
and it wasnât just the words. it was the way he said themâlow, steady and unshaken, like there wasnât a version of this where he'd let go. like holding you, keeping you together when you couldnât anymoreâwas the most natural thing in the world. your grip on him shifted, less desperate now, more⊠certain.
you werenât clinging because you were about to fall anymore. you were holding on because he was there and he wasnât moving.
after a moment, he shiftedâand you pulled back just a bit, arms still wrapped around his waist, looking at him with glassy, red rimmed eyes, lashes sticking together with already shed tears.
âokay,â he murmured gently, brushing damp hair back from your face. âjust gonna take care of you a bit. nothing else. let me help you, yeah?â
you barely nodded, too exhausted to argue. he moved carefully, like everything about you was something that could break if he handled it wrong. he gently scooped you in his arms, standing up with you in his embrace and setting you on the bathroom counter.
he dampened a cloth, testing the temperature before bringing it near you, wiping your face with quiet, deliberate movementsâover your sweat-slicked forehead, the corners of your mouth, your hands and slick fingers with no rush, just patience.
âthere we go sweet girlâŠ,â he said under his breath, more to soothe you than anything. âyouâre doing good. just stay with me.â his thumb brushed under your eye when he pulled back, catching the last of the tears.
âlook at me a sec.â
you hesitated, then lifted your gaze just enough. his expressionâgod, it wasnât what you feared. there was no disappointment, no frustrationâjust worry, and something softer, steadier.
âthere you are,â he murmured, voice low. âthatâs my girl.â
your throat tightened.
his hand came up to cup your cheek, warm, grounding. âiâm here now. okay? you not gonna go through this on your own anymore. not while I'm here."
you swallowed hard, voice small. âi didnât want you to see me.. not like.. this.â
his expression shifted, pained and firm both at once. âno,â he said gently. âi shouldâve. i shouldâve been here sooner.â
you shook your head again, opening your mouth to deny it, to stumble over more excuses- but he just leaned in, pressing a slow, grounding kiss to your temple.
âlisten. none of that shit. not with me,â he murmured against your skin. âyou hear me? you're not gonna disappear right in front of my eyes just âcause things get bad." he said again, softer this time. his forehead rested briefly against yours as he let out a quiet exhale, his tone suddenly dropping to something more raw, more honest.
âand iâd rather see you like this, than see you.. once it's already too late. got it?â
his thumb traced a slow line along your cheekbone, before he continued, âyou donât have to hide the ugly parts. i don't want you to. iâm not going anywhere because my girl is struggling. that's absurd.â
something in your chest cracked open at that.
âso next time it feels like too muchâŠâ he tilted his head slightly, trying to catch your gaze again. âyou come get me. yeah? even if you think you shouldnât. especially then.â
you nodded faintly, hand coming up to rest on his shoulder. " 'm sorry." you mumbled, looking into his eyes properly this time.
he shook his head, taking your hand in his "don't apologize,* he said, pressing a kiss to the back of it as he pulled you close once more.
in which â reader is self conscious about their body; and freezes whilst making out with their partner.
featuring: dazai and chuuya
warnings/before you read: lowercase writing, crappy writing for this being my first piece of actual writing since august 2024, kind of suggestive, prefer 16+ to read
i had a dream about this no jokeâ
you took a sip of your tea upon entering the bedroom. you gently shut the door, expecting CHUUYA to be maybe on your bed, however he wasn't. in fact he wasn't anywhere to be seen.
the bed was nicely made from this morning. the sheets and pillow still reminiscing the smell from the washing machine.
the room was dimly lit, the only lights being the evening street lights of yokohama reflecting through the large window, with crimson colored curtains just a little bit open, to let the summer evening breeze cool up the hot room.
you walked deeper into your bedroom, placing their tea gently down the nightstand, careful not to accidently knock it over the carpets that covered the hard wood floors.
just as you were about to call out your partners name, you felt yourself get pushed softly onto the bed sheets. you let out a quiet squeal as you turn over to your back and see chuuya slowly climb on the bed after you; hunger in his eyes.
you let him sit on your waist, pinning you down gently to the bed as e leans down, face-to-face with your face. "you look gorgeous, baby~" he wasted no time kissing your lips.
soft yet sturdy. nothing to make you uncomfortable. he wouldn't want that, he'd rather spend a whole week stuck on a island with shitty dazai than to ever make you feel uncomfortable in bed.
you kissed him back, your hands cupping his cheeks as you turned your head to the side to kiss him better, to which he chuckled into the kissâ his hands often resting to your hips, then eventually your waist.
just as you two were in the heat of the moment, your felt his hands slowly raise your shirt up from your waist line. you tried to ignore the feeling; your stomach getting shown off.
you felt a sense of calm as gently rubbed your sides up and down, his lips suddenly parting from your own as he started to kiss your jawline down to your neck.
"chuuya-"
"i got you, don't worry~"
you let out a shaky breath when you feel his hands travel more around your body. your mind is flooded with random, stupid, questions.
you felt his fingers touch the spot just above your ribs, your shirt risen up higher then you would like and that's when you break.
he immediately stops everything he's doing, leaning back up just to sit on your waist with little weight to make you feel more open and free then pinned and trapped.
you felt your lip tremble as you spit out apologies. pulling his arms away from your body and quickly taking one hand to push down your shirt.
"sorryâ sorry, iâ i don't know..." he hushes you, stroking your hair away from your face to have you look up at him properly. "shh, it's okay, baby, got nothing to be sorry for. if you're not readyâ "
"it's not that!" he raised an eyebrow in confusion, parting your bangs away from your now teary eyes. it breaks his fucking heart, ya hear?
"what's wrong, hm?" his tone still hushed, wiping your fallen tears with his thumb awaiting your answer.
you told him everything. everything you hated. everything you disliked about your body. how much you wished life would give you a second chance, a second option.
he listened. and oh, did he listen. he always listen to what you have to say; but this? he was staring into your eyes, shut closed; scared to face chuuya with the fear of being humiliated. why? it's just you're body protecting yourself, you assume?
he waits for you to finish, your hands letting go of his own moments before; covering your face as he sat in silence for a few moments.
"hey.." he started of softly, gently taking your wrists and pulling them away from your face. slowly, you followed his speed and his heart broke at your tears. "tch, get those tears out of here.." he spoke, leaning down and placing kiss after kiss on your tear-stained cheeks.
"whoever said those shitty lies about you and your body can kiss my ass. to me, your the most beautiful person i've laid my eyes on. and just me, i've met some really ugly people; you don't come close to them. who cares about what others say, they don't matter!"
"you think iâm touching you because i have to? you really think iâd be here, with you, like this, if i didnât think you wereâbeautiful? god, you drive me crazy.â
after that night, he's your personal cheerleader; loving each and every part of your body, teaching you how love it as well; one kiss and hug at a time.
the rain hitting the window gave a calm, soothing aura to the room you and DAZAI were both in. you were curled up in dazai's lap as he arms were wrapped around you, legs tangled. the movie softly playing from the tv long forgotten.
his kisses were feather-lightâ more teasing then needyâ trailing from your temple, down to your cheeks then to your jaw and eventually getting to the corner of your lips. you responded, hesitant yet present, until his hand reached under your shirt; feeling up and down your smooth skin.
that's when it hit you.
that ugly, familiar coiled tight tension in your chest. your breath caught. your muscles tightened. it felt as is your body was suddenly tangled in giant metal chains. you didn't realize you were pulling back a bit from him until dazai's hand stilled.
his head tilted, just a little, to the side. his brown eyes flickered at yours.
"...you ok, 'bella?"
his voice was gentle, nothing like the lazy, dramatic tones he usually put on. that alone made your throat tighten. you tried to speak, but the words lodged behind your teeth.
"i'm sorryâ" you whispered, "I justâi can'tâ right now.." you slump your shoulders down.
he didn't press any further. didn't ask what you meant. instead, he pulled his arms away from you completely. like placing down a delicate piece of glass to a table.
"it's not you," you added quickly, ashamed. "it's me. i justâ sometimes...i don't likeâ i feel so disgusted with how i look. i just don't knowâ how you would want to even touch me when i can barely look at myself in the mirror." your words felt like knives in your throat as you opened up to dazai.
"i hate myself..."
dazai leaned back, arms resting behind his head. not casuallyâ deliberately. like a gesture saying: i'm not going to make you uncomfortable.
"hmm," dazai hummed, his eyes on the ceiling. "funny thing, that. you look at yourself and feel disgusted. all while, i look a you and all i can think of is mine."
your eyes widened, looking back at him. his gaze shifted back to you, and the storm in those eyes quieted. âyou think i havenât hated my reflection too? you think i havenât wanted to crawl out of my own skin and disappear?â he paused. âbut when i look at you? all i feel is warmth. the kind that makes me want to stay.â
you swallowed hard, throat aching.
âand if touching you brings you pain, then iâd rather never touch you again than make you feel that way. understand?â
there was no flirtation in his voice. no humor. just quiet honesty.
âi want you to feel safe here,â he added, placing a hand gently over your heart. ânot just in this roomâhere.â
the warmth of his palm made something crack in you. you looked down, blinking fast.
âiâm trying,â you whispered.
âi know,â he replied, without hesitation. âand thatâs more than enough.â
you leaned into him, not kissing, not touchingâjust resting your head against his chest. he said nothing else, just held you close, letting the silence stretch between you like a soft blanket.
and in that moment, you realized something:
dazai didnât want your body more than your heart. he wanted youâevery broken, healing piece of you. even the ones you kept hidden.
