Hello everyone!! 84% of you wanted a Dazai needle play fix so here it is!
CW: needles, mentions of hitting/slapping, sobbing.
Tags: sub!Dazai, dom!reader, 22!Dazai, needles, bratty Dazai to crybaby Dazai, orgasm, lots of banter, long fic, not proofread, handjob, OOC, sounding with needle, urethra play, Dazai has two breakdowns, Dazai has trauma from TDIPUD needle art (at the end of this post).
This is also on AO3 now!!
“Why can’t you just start touching me already??” The brunette whined, a playful pout growing on his lips as he crossed his arms. Head turned away snobbishly, he continued complaining. “You’re taking forever, I’m going soft.”
A blatant lie, you both knew it. His cock stood stiff and red, precum drooling from the tip. He clearly just wanted to get a rise out of you, but you kept your cool. You had been planning for this.
You wanted to take it slow tonight, to ruin his body with the gentlest of touches, until he was completely submissive and docile in your hold. But he made that complicated, of course. It seemed impossible for him to keep his bratty mouth shut. But tonight is gonna be different, you’re sure of it.
“Are you asking for punishment?” You taunted back. “Because I can definitely give you one.”
He seemed to perk up at that. “No, I’m asking for you to hurry up and fuck me. I’m bored.” He pushed further. But your sentence caused a whirlwind of lust to storm in his mind. He hoped you’d be extra rough tonight. Hit and slap him ‘til he was all bruised up, overstimulate him ‘til he passed out. His cock twitched desperately.
You sighed, and he knew he was fucked. He watched you stand up from your shared bed and walk to the closet with an eerie calmness. You dug for a moment, before pulling out something wrapped in a plastic bag. He tilted his head curiously.
You sat back down, glancing at him with a knowing smile before beginning to pull out the bags contents. Once free from the plastic bag, you held a small box with the words “MEDICAL GRADE NEEDLES” plastered on it.
The look on Dazais face was priceless. For the first time ever you saw true fear on him, and God, it was sexy. He went pale, eyes wide open as a wave of new blood shot through him. You could tell he was already teetering between waiting for you to explain, or running before you could get a word out.
His mind was somewhere else, deep in traumatic memories, yet still so present and alert. “… What are you planning?..” He asked meekly. You cooed internally.
“Well, if you consent,” You started. “I was going to punish you with these.”
“You’re- you’re not stabbing me with those!” You gave him a stern glare as he raised his voice.
You raised your hands in mock surrender, scooting closer. “Honey, I promise I wont really hurt you. I would never.” Your arms encircled his waist, one hand coming up to mess with his hair. “I won’t 'stab' you.”
For once, he seemed hesitant for your touch. He wriggled around nervously, subtly trying to break free. “I’m not doing this!” He protested.
You just kissed his cheek and whispered. “For me, ‘Samu? Won’t you be strong for me?” You looked at him with the softest eyes you could muster, fingers combing through his hair.
He paused, considering his options. He wanted to run, to scream, to fight. But when you looked at him like that, and said his first name in such a gentle manner… He crumbled in your arms, head resting in the crook of your neck. You shushed him, rocking the both of you back and forth.
“You can handle it, ‘Samu. You’ve always been so strong.” You flattered him relentlessly, trying to get him to give in. His panting breaths were caught by your ear, you could hear the panic in his mind. Part of you pitied the poor thing, wanting to always keep him safe and content. The other only felt more sadistic and aroused, sensing his fear.
“I…” He paused to think it over, a desperate whimper leaving his lips. “If it makes you happy….”
-
Osamu Dazai was a feared man. Everyone knows how sick in the head he is, all the fucked up shit he’s done. Yet here he is, whimpering and shaking in your arms like a lost puppy, trying his hardest to make you happy, no matter how scared he is.
… Your lips met his temple, kissing softly. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll be gentle with you.” You reassured.
You pulled back and he sucked in a shaky inhale. With deliberate slowness you opened the box, allowing him to watch every step. You pulled out the first needle, pulling the cap off revealed a very thin, dainty point. “I picked the thinnest I could find.” You swore.
He bit his lip, chest beginning to heave. You noticed immediately. “You know your safeword? Tell me your safeword ‘Samu.” You lowered the needle.
“Crab. The safewords crab.” He reminded both himself and you. “Good boy. Are you ready?”
“… Just do it..”
Your free hand rested on his back, patting him comfortingly. You lifted the needle and he squeezed his eyes shut. With the utmost precision, you gave him his first prick. He started shaking almost immediately, biting his lip to muffle a scream. You shushed him again. “Good job, you took it so well. Thats as deep as I’m going, okay?”
He opened his eyes, prepared for the worst. The needle, which was currently stuck to the inside of his thigh, was only about an inch deep into the skin. “See? It’s not that bad. You can handle a few more, can’t you?”
Poor Dazai was shaking so bad he was practically vibrating as he sat, nodding his head obediently. “Whatever you want…” You could hear the defeat in his voice.
One by one, you continued pricking his thighs. You watched him unravel emotionally, slowly breaking down with each prick. He wiggled and squirmed in your hold, each poke sending a shock through his body. Six needles covered each of his pale thighs before you finally decided that was enough, and that it was time to move onto the real fun; poking at his cock.
You pulled out the next needle, your vision focusing back on his leaking cock. Even stiffer than before, he noticed your gaze. “Please,” He immediately began to beg. “Please don’t prick my cock…”
“I’m not.” You reassured. “Hold still and you wont even notice it’s in there.” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, until he realized what you meant.
You pulled the cap off the needle, and he watched it go straight for his urethra opening. “No, no, no!” He cried, the tears that had been decorating his lash line finally began spilling over. His body began to rack with sobs, breaking down in front of you. “Please no…”
You immediately folded, arms outstretched, moving in to hold him. “C’mere baby,” You squeezed him tight against your body. “You were doing so good, I promise you’ll be fine.”
“No, you don’t get it. I can’t- I can’t handle any more… I tried my hardest, but this is just too much..” He pleaded with you, his tears soaking your shirt.
“Osamu, you’ve been such a good boy so far. Can’t you just take this last needle? Then you’ll get to cum hard, don’t you want that?”
“Course I wanna cum, wanna cum so bad. But I don’t even think I can do it, ‘m too scared…”
“When have you ever not been able to cum for me? I promise, I’ll make it feel so good. Just take a few deep breaths so you can calm down and take this last needle, then you can cum all over me.”
He mulled over his options, but quickly realized he didn’t really have any. You always find some way to convince him to go along with your weird kinks, and tonight would be no different.
“… Okay…” He said meekly, taking a deep breath like you said.
“So obedient.” You pulled away, focusing your attention back on his cock. You lined the tip of the needle up with his urethra, hearing him whimper. “You’re not gonna feel a thing…”
You slid it in slowly, his obsessive precum creating a nice lube. Tears slid down his cheeks, and he made the most beautiful noises. Both cries of pain and pleasure escaped his lips as the needle glided down his sensitive urethra. You praised him softly, inserting the needle all the way in.
“See? You did it, dear. It’s not that bad, is it? It’s not hurting you, right?”
Panting, he nodded. “It’s not hurting. But it’s weird… I don’t know if I like it or not..”
You chuckled to yourself, he was really adorable. So obedient and eager to please now, nothing like how he was when you started.
Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “Now, you get to cum.” You stroked him at a medium pace, watching him writhe.
“You’re not taking the needle out first?!”
“I don’t need to.” You replied, speeding up. It didn’t take long to push him over the edge, he was so hard and sensitive. With a final drawn out sob, he came around the needle. The spasms of his cock slowly pushed the needle out of his urethra, and he began shooting ropes of milky cum.
-
His mess coated your hand and shirt. When it was finally over, he looked at you with a pitiful expression. “I-I’m done. Can we take the needles out now?..”
You cooed. “Yes honey, I’ll take them out now.” You stood from the bed. “Let me go get some bandages and salve.”
If you’re wondering what art I was referring to, it's this one:
But thank you for reading! Please send in requests!
It’s been about a week since you last saw him sleep. You’d go to bed alone and wake up even lonelier. And even though he was amazing at hiding his emotions, he couldn’t hide the bags forming under his pretty eyes.
He’d be fresh out the shower, you’d dry his hair with his towel. “You’re not my mom.” He’d mouth off to you, just trying to start an argument. Maybe it’s because he was embarrassed, you thought. Maybe even a little insecure, not used to being cared for. But even so, the idea of him feeling any type of shame was foreign.
“Shut up and let me help you,” You scrunched up his hair in the towel, ringing it out. “You need sleep, honey.”
He’d just pout. You’d finish his hair and begin to close all the blinds and flip off all the lights. You knew he needed total darkness to sleep, it was cute, but a little strange. Almost everything about him was.
You two would finally curl up in bed together, his face shoved into the pillow as your arm encircled his torso. You’d kiss his temple, and swear you could feel his shoulders relax just the tiniest bit from it.
“… Can I have some sake before bed-” “No.”
Sneaky asshole. That was another thing you two had to work through; his drinking problem. But that was for another day. Right now, all you wanted was to pamper him.
It start out with slow back rubs, your warm hand occasionally massaging into his neck and shoulder muscles. He sighed. You eventually snuck your hand up under his shirt, scratching his back. You’d kiss felt a few scars, probably from fights, or maybe even self inflicted (another thing to work past). He was surprisingly quiet, not his usual chatter-box self. You took it as a sign that he liked this.
You couldn’t tell exactly when he fell asleep, but you both eventually did. You’d wake up, hand still tucked under his shirt, the softest of sunlight beaming through the window, lying on his pale skin.
But he didn’t like it, and whined. “Ugh, close the blinds…” You gave in immediately, getting up to throw some blankets over the window.
The late evening stretched quietly, the background noise settling in slowly as his voice echoed softly in your ear.
Fyodor laid on the couch with your back pressed to his chest, both of his hands holding a book in front of him as he read it carefully out loud. There was no rush, his voice was low and controlled as it usually was, each word falling with deliberate precision.
You're listening at first, but as time went on the calm rhythm of his voice started to act almost like a lullaby, it wrapped around you, slow and steady, until your thoughts begin to blur at the edges. Your breathing got slower as your head started to drop a bit more into his shoulder, he noticed. He always did.
Fyodor's eyes don't leave the page, but he could still notice and feel every shift in you. One could blame how close you were, but in reality he would still be able to tell even if miles away.
He turned to the next page slowly, then, almost idly, he asks.
"Am I boring you?" His voice dropped even lower, right next to your ear now.
It was subtle, the way he always was when he wanted to hear you say something even though he already knew the answer. You hummed softly, barely awake, not interested in hiding it at all, you never did.
"Your voice is calming is all."
There's a pause, not long, just enough to feel intentional. The book is lowered, slightly.
"Calming..." He repeats, almost amused in that faint, unreadable way of his. "Is that all it takes to lull you into such a defenseless state?"
You don't answer, already giving up on fighting the sleepiness.
"Should I take that as a form os trust..." His voice dropped even lower now, almost as if he was talking only to himself. "Or lapse in judgement?" There was no bite to it, however.
Your body sinked more into him slowly, now fully relaxed, as your breathing evened out. Fyodor watched your frame, completely and utterly calm, as if nothing could ever hurt you at all. His eyes were almost soft.
"How strange." He remarked, closing the book quietly in his hands.
His now free hand comes up, hesitating for a full second before finally allowing it to rest on your head lightly.
"You find comfort in something that was never meant to be gentle." Fyodor observed to himself. "And yet... I don't mind indulging you." His voice dropped so low that almost he didn't hear it this time.
He leans back into the couch again, adjusting you just enough so you’re more comfortable against him, his arm settling securely around you like a quiet claim.
The room falls silent. No more reading, only the steady rhythm of your breathing and the rare, unguarded stillness of a man who, for once, chooses not to pull away.
Hello everyone!!! I’m finally back, Tumblr was being stupid and wouldn’t allow me to verify my email, so I couldn’t post. But now I can! So I’m starting a new series! Its basically just about how to BSD men would treat you while married (it will be SFW, I’m sorry!). First we have Fyodor!
[Nikolai] [Sigma] [Dazai] [Chuuya]
Fyodor is the type to call you names like “Wife/Wifey”. Not in a derogatory “I own you” way, but in a “I’m so happy to be able to call you my wife and mean it” way.
Fyodor is the type to always be able to comfort you when you cry. I see a lot of people saying that he wouldn’t be good with emotions, but as we know he is a very smart man, and I believe he would always know just what to say.
Fyodor is the type to be a lot more open around you once married. At first, he’d be very closed off and quiet, but once he finally gets down on one knee, he’s much more relaxed than before. Not like he’d be totally all over you, but he’d be able to laugh and crack a few jokes and actually smile.
Fyodor is the type to be obsessed with forehead kisses. I actually believe that he’d be quite affectionate, not obsessed, but just a little more than the average man. And his favorite is forehead kisses. He likes to wake up and give you one, then he likes to greet you with one when he comes home from work, and he likes to give you one before bed.
Fyodor is the type to turn on the record player and waltz with you. You’ve probably heard this head-canon before, but that won’t stop me from writing about it. You could be anywhere in the house. The living room, making supper in the kitchen, literally anywhere. And then you’d hear that record player turn on, and you’d know what time it was. He’d come in, spin you around, and place one hand on your waist, the other holding yours. You two could dance for hours, completely forgetting about what you were doing beforehand.
I almost cried writing this lol I love him so much.
Im not really into riding crops or 'hardcore' BDSM kinks, but imagine sitting on top of Chuuyas desk, staring down at his bulge. “Unzip.” Is all you have to say for him to oblige, unzipping his pants and showing off his bulge, cock straining against his underwear. You take your crop, beginning to run it over his cock, slowly moving it up and down, your touch feather light. You trace around it as well, watching it twitch as his pre-cum leaked and stained the white fabric. “Pull it out.” He does so, eagerly. It flops against his stomach, the tip flushed red. You trace the veins on it with the crop. He whimpers, but quickly tries to cover it with a cough. You raise the flogger, causing him to raise his hands out of instinct.
HI, I really like your writings! (And your blog is wery pretty)
This is not a request, I just have a whole au idea for Fyodor and I wanted to ask if I can send a rant about it? (Ik. it's weird, I just have so much ideas and want to get it out somehow)
That's all, have a nice daaaay✨️
Thank u sm !!!! And also YES OMG PLS I LOVE HEARING ABOUT PPLS AUS !!!!! 🤍🤍
Covering my ears so I don’t remember what they said/Forgot my name once but mark my words they won’t again/I’m blowing up across the globe like Minecraft tnt/Only time I’m burning up now is when we burn the CD
Joost Klein lyrics written in English:
I have a good time! I make a good rhyme! I buy a new car! And I fill it with slime!
Bending Sigma over in front of all his employees in this room, watching him cover his face and cry out of embarrassment as he gets railed in front of his subordinates>>>
Waking up to Fyodor touching himself. He doesn’t even notice that you’re up at first, too busy fisting his cock/fucking his ass. But when he does finally sense your eyes on him, a pink tint spreads across his ears, and he murmurs a little:
“Good morning, Ma’am/Sir…”
And offers for you to touch him instead, presenting his hole and cock to you.
origamiaround
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
gummygunk
