‘I drink out of desperation. Life is too dreary to endure. The misery, loneliness, crampedness - they’re heartbreaking. Whenever you can hear the gloomy sighs of woe from the four walls around you, you know that there’s not a chance of happiness existing just for you. What feelings do you suppose a man has when he realizes that he will never know happiness or glory as long as he lives?’
My contribute to his birthday.
I want to take this opportunity to vent a little about something a bit personal.
Dazai and BSD both, in a certain way, made a significant impact to me. They both come back into my life when I touched the low bar.
And Dazai in particular really made me feel understood in a period where I only felt numbness and where anything didn’t felt worth living for. That’s partially why I’m so attached to him.
For me at least, as a BSD fan, it was never about fangirl stuff. It was more deep than that. This is a topic not many people would get, and I understand it.
And I honestly feel a little embarrassed to share this too.
So happy birthday Dazai Osamu, you were able to honor Oda’s words once again.
Mother I crave more beast dazai content with only but angst and sex.
-🌕🦢
A/N: Hello my child!!! Sorry for replying so late...I aim to please within a week (or 2). Anywayyyy, you should be honoured to be my very first requester!!!! I hope I have catered to your needs...enjoy!!!!
Let me go ~
Pairing: Yandere!Beast!Dazai x Wife!Reader
Genre: Angst, smut (18+)
Content warning: swearing, death of children mentioned – and (kinda) gory descriptions, manipulative DAZAI, YANDERE DAZAI, MAFIA BOSS DAZAI, BEAST DAZAI,DAZAI, DAZAI, DAZAI, mentions of suicide (I wonder who said it hmmm), DUB-CON (kinda), MEAN DAZAI, nipple play, fingering, orgasm denial, one spank, DAZAI, p in v sex, unprotected sex, MANIPULATIVE DAZAI, SEXY DAZAI
Synopsis: You were tired of his lies and wanted to leave. He, however, had a different idea. And we all know who gets their way in the end.
“Dazai…I can’t do this anymore. I want a divorce.”
The Mafia boss in question does not react at all, as he simply carries on glaring at the chaotic mess of documents spread out on his ebony desk with a furrowed brow marring his usually emotionless façade. One bandaged hand is tangled in his soft, wavy hair, whilst the other is drumming aimless beats on the table.
Yet you did not notice the frustration etched on his face, for you had been staring at the floor,
lest you be distracted by the beautiful display of anger from the handsome man sitting across from you, preventing you from getting that sentence out of your mouth. There is no way you’ll be able to break up with him if you are looking at that all-knowing, chocolate eye that commands all.
And even though you knew all of this, you still foolishly decide to storm up to his desk and
bang your hand on top of the documents, obscuring his view and causing the powerful man’s head to shoot up in exasperation as he mutters sharply,
“Stop being a brat (Y/N) and remove your hand.”
His annoyed tone causes you to hesitate – barely, although Dazai’s trained eye notices immediately – before you retort,
“Not until you stop being a jerk who’s always lying to me and making false promises.”
He regards you with a lazy smirk, as if he’s amused by your outburst, not taking your words
seriously at all. And it angers you how dismissive he’s being – literally seconds after you spoke from your heart. He never, never acknowledged your words, always brushing
arguments under the rug. And you have had enough.
Your eyes blur with a transparent layer of tears, anger practically threatening to erupt, but you manage to hold in the hysteria as you quietly hiss,
“You think I wouldn’t find out? All your lies? Y-you arsehole! How could you harm those children! They’re children, Dazai, children!”
The reminder of those pictures you saw on his desk a few nights ago, the horrible conditions those young, innocent souls were forced to go through, all those blackened bodies and agonised faces, brought your tears to the surface. Your face is soon drenched, but you stare at him with fury swirling in your eyes. This man – this sweet man you were once delighted to call yours – was nothing more than a heartless murderer. And you see it now.
You see it all clearly.
“It had to be done, (Y/N).”
His face was like hardened stone, all cruelty and no emotion. A small part of you smirked smugly, delighted that he’s finally taking you seriously, but the logical side began to cower in fear; a serious Dazai is a dangerous Dazai. Who knows what you have just triggered. And yet, the anger within you fuels you on, causing careless words to spew out of your mouth,
“They were innocent angels. They didn’t deserve that! And... I saw the date. It happened on our wedding anniversary! And what was your excuse back then? Oh yes, you couldn’t make it because one of your subordinates had been gravely injured. Such a kind man, I thought, but here you were, taking innocent lives.”
Your face is a picture of hate, glaring at the seemingly unaffected man in front of you. With a final sob, you utter the words that had been wanting to escape ever since you first saw those photographs,
“I hate you, Dazai! You’re a cruel bastard who deserves to die a horrible death!”
He grimaced, before answering,
“As much as I want to die, I’d rather it be painless, my dear. And preferably a double suicide with you.”
He finally cut the thin thread of sanity that had held you together. With a frustrated scream, you knock down the vase that had been sitting on the table, smashing it into tiny shards before swirling around and walking purposefully to the door. And you wish he’d stop you, beg you to forgive him, promising he would change, but you knew, deep down, it was all a futile hope. A man like him had no hope for redemption.
Just as your hand clasps around the handle and pulls the door open, a sudden force hits it shut, and you look up to see a strong, bandaged palm flat against the door above your head, and an ominous presence behind you. But how? You hadn’t heard him move. But of course, it is foolish to think you can hear the cunning man when he doesn’t want to be heard.
You stand frozen, unable to move from the waves of sheer power that radiates from him, until you feel his face close to yours, nose tracing a path from your temple to your cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps which he slyly takes note of, before letting out a throaty chuckle at your expression – which you are ashamed to say resembled a deer in headlights.
“My sweet little wife, where do you think you’re going?”
He smirks against your soft skin, nuzzling into your neck, and you hate how you melt into the soft gesture. No, you’re meant to be arguing with him, not letting him cosy up to you. For fuck’s sake, you even demanded a divorce, and not even the destruction of the universe would stop you from getting what you want.
"Pity that Dazai Osamu is an entity capable of far worse than merely destroying a universe.
“Away from you!”
Your hissed response is delayed, and his smirk widens at the hesitation. You’re practically making it easy for him to manipulate, handing yourself to him on a silver platter, begging to be ruined, corrupted by this ruthless man.
“Let me go, bastard!”
He tuts, shaking his head at your snarled exclamation, before dramatically sighing out,
“How cruel of you, bella’, to say such hurtful words! Oh! You’ve broken my poor heart! Fie, I say!”
His dramatic antics – the very one that never fails to make you laugh – only made the anger and the hurt grow more. He’s toying with you, attempting to break you, and he’s succeeding. You turn around; eyes filled with disbelief at his words. And in your blind rage, you fail to consider the consequences of your actions, as your open palm flies towards his cheek. But before your hand can connect to your target, his hand locks your wrist in an iron grip, and a furious expression takes over his features.
“No.”
A simple command that evokes immediate fear in you. You begin to shake, staring at him with wide, innocent eyes, whilst he looks down upon you with unfiltered rage. Roughly, he slams your back against the wall, the force stealing your breath. Whilst one hand grasps both your wrists and crushes them between your bodies, the other grabs your cheeks, fingers digging into your soft skin and forcing your mouth into a pout. Sneering, he slams his lips onto yours, biting and nipping, eager to hear you cry. And you do just that, sobbing and struggling, although it does nothing to help you at all.
He finally lets go of your face, although his body is still pinning yours to the wall, but before you can enjoy that small moment of freedom, his hand slips under your shirt, snaking its way up to roughly fondle your breasts.
“S-stop, please Dazai.”
Scoffing, he answers with a dismissive,
“You tried to slap me, so consider this your punishment.”
Never in your two years of marriage has he ever done something like this. He’s always put your pleasure, your wants, your happiness before anything else, so why? Why is he acting like this? And you know the answer too, already figured out that the kindness was a façade, that this is his true nature, but how can you acknowledge that you married a monster?
He rips open your shirt, buttons flying everywhere, and it brings you back to the abuse he’s dishing out to your body. He’s pulling and pinching your nipples uncaringly, squeezing the sensitive flesh, relishing in your yelps and pained whines, egging you on.
“That’s it, darling, beg more. Beg for the man you hate.”
You push him away, hitting his chest with small fists, but he doesn’t budge at all, instead laughing at your pathetic attempts to attack him.
“It’s almost as if you want me to hurt you, you little masochist.”
“N-no, don’t do this, I don’t want this, Dazai, please –”
“You know my name (Y/N).”
You finally look him in the eye, all skittish and fearful, but he calmly regards you, finally stopping his assault on your breasts. And a mischievous glint enters his eye as he continues to stare you down like you’re his prey. No – not like, you are his prey.
His hand is splayed across your stomach, as you breathe heavily, fear mixed with forbidden desire – although you’d die before admitting that – as he stares silently.
“You don’t want this?”
He cocks his head to the side, looking at you with faux innocence as if just seconds ago, he wasn’t groping your breasts against your pleas to stop. Warily, you shake your head.
Before you can even register what had happened, he’s twirled your around, your back against his chest as he’s leaning against the wall, and your face heats up at the large bulge in his trousers, rubbing right against your arse.
And before you can defend yourself, his hand slips down into your panties, causing an
embarrassing moan to leave your mouth, and you're thankful for the change in position. At least, you don’t have to see the smug expression on his stupidly handsome face.
One, long finger strokes the length of your slit, and when he brings his hand up to your face, you flush at the slick that was practically drowning his finger.
“You’re so drenched bella’. And for who, I wonder? The very man you hate.”
His face is covered in a wicked grin, small specs of insanity present in his omniscient, brown eye, as he shoves his finger in your mouth, forcing you to suck on it, and your nose scrunches at the slightly acidic taste. He’s never acted so...rough with you before, and you're shocked by how turned on you are. How embarrassing. You were meant to leave him today, to never look back, but what are you doing now?
Somewhere during your internal monologue, Dazai’s fingers have found its home between your legs once more, and his finger slowly strokes your slit, spreading the wetness to your clit. Yet he doesn’t move, instead letting his fingers hover over your clit, barely touching. You whine desperately, wanting more, needing more, but he doesn’t give in, torturing you slowly.
“P-please, O-osamuuu…”
You aren’t sure what you're begging for anymore, but all you know is that Dazai is driving you crazy with how slowly he’s moving, and how much he’s teasing you. You struggle once more, but now, it was for a completely different purpose. And he’s satisfied with how easy it is to reduce you into this mess, but he wouldn’t be Dazai Osamu if he only made you lose your mind once. No, he’s going to absolutely break you.
With that thought, he shoved two fingers into your tight hole, and you're lucky that your cunt is drooling, because otherwise, you would have surely been in pain at the stretch of those long fingers plunging into you.
“A-aah…O-osa! N-no stop!”
Your plea is weak as you’re already giving into the pleasure before you can see your demand for a divorce through. It’s pathetic how simple it is for him to bend you to his will, but the way those skilled fingers feel inside your walls, hitting the right spots, makes you lose your mind before the real pleasure begins. He’s massaging your walls with ease, an expert in his actions, knowing exactly what to do to reduce you to this blubbering mess.
And when he hits your sweet spot, he chuckles softly, relishing in your whimpers and screams, trying desperately to hold back your moans, but he already knows the pleasure you're writhing under.
“F-fuck…stop, no more!”
You’re still in denial, although your hips are grinding on his fingers, and he openly laughs, watching your pathetic figure contradict the prideful words that leave your mouth. No, that won’t do…he wants you to beg him to give you unlimited pleasure. And he knows exactly how to remedy the situation.
You’re already clenching his fingers hard, trying to keep them in you as he spears your sweet spot again and again and again, and he overloads your senses by rubbing furious circles on your clit with his thumb. Your hand grasps at his sleeves desperately, hold tightening as he brings you closer and closer to the brink. Your back is arching, eyes rolling back as incoherent sounds leave your lips, begging and begging, and when he leans down seductively to whisper,
“You may hate me, but your body certainly doesn’t.”
It tips you over the edge, or at least it would have, if the cruel man had not stopped his assault and completely withdrawn all forms of stimulation, leaving your cunt to clench around nothing. You let out a pained whine, confused as you fix your widened eyes on Dazai’s smirking face.
“Tell me you want it, tell me you want my fucking dick in you. Say it!”
By now, all forms of resistance have completely vanished, as your legs shake and pussy pulses at your ruined high. And at the slightest hesitance from you, he roughly spanks your arse, causing you to cry out in pain, and some twisted form of pleasure.
“W-want you to f-fuck me, Osa…wanna feel your big dick in me…”
It’s humiliating, but you’re desperate for the pleasure that only he can give you. And as soon as those words leave your lips, he all but throws you onto the desk, tearing you panties roughly and keeping your head pinned to the cold surface with one hand whilst the other effortlessly removes his belt and exposes his impressive length.
And without any prior warning, he thrusts into you, wetness dulling the pain, although the unexpected stretch of his huge length impaling you causes you to scream out desperately. And he laughs at your shock and begins fucking you with such vigour that his ebony desk also moved along with you. He’s hitting all the right spots, giving you an all-consuming pleasure whilst your face steadily heats up at the lewd sounds your joined sex echoes in the silent room.
“B-bella….do you - fuck - do you enjoy being fucked by the man you hate…?”
You cry then, clawing at the hard surface, as his cock hits your g-spot with deadly precision, forcing guttural moans to escape your mouth at the sheer, endless pleasure. Your eyes are stuck in the back of your head from how good he’s fucking you, albeit a bit too rough, but his careless treatment only makes you drip more.
“A-ah…please….needa come, ah - Osamuu!”
His hand is tangled in your hair, gripping the strands before yanking you up, and your tears mixed with your drool is a sight to see, tongue lolling out as Dazai leans down to your shoulder and bites down hard. And he feels your cunt clench around his cock at the rough treatment - who knew his wife had a pain kink. You had always been so soft, but this was by far the most dishevelled you’d been during sex.
But he is still angry, still mad at your hurtful words, so much that he conveys his anger through how roughly he’s pumping his cock in you, going deeper and deeper until he’s practically hitting your cervix and bruising you. And when he feels you tell-tale signs, of how frequently your clenching around him, the higher pitched moaning, they way your fingers are scrambling to hold onto something - anything - on the desk, he quickly pulls out and fucks his hand before letting out a groan as cum shoots out of his tip.
He decorates you back, panting as rows of thick white substance covers you, dripping down your arse, whilst some of his jizz has landed into your spasming hole, your own orgasm ruined once more. And your legs are shaking, barely any strength left, as you lay there crying. He tucks himself back in swiftly, leaving briefly to clean himself up and when he comes back, he sees your shivering form still on the desk.
You haven’t moved ever since he left you there, unsatisfied and broken. The tears have stopped coming, all that’s left is a hollow look, yet you flinch when you feel his unforgiving palm on your body, rubbing you with deceptive sweetness.
“Remember (Y/N) this was your punishment. If you hadn’t acted so foolishly earlier, I wouldn’t have needed to do this. I hope you dispel this silly idea of wanting a divorce. After all, you are my wife, and you will always be mine.”
