Dazai And Female S/o Being Each Other First Time?

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ BY ANY OTHER NAME — dazai osamu

summary . . . dazai comes home after a week away, and you stay up late to surprise him with a gift.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader, pm boss dazai, dazai's pov, fluff, pet names, husband dazai <3, my unofficial valentine’s fic — 2.3k

notes . . . IM BACK !!!! he can stop whining about being neglected now (i missed him)

Dazai rubs his eyes as he walks in through the front doors of the Port Mafia headquarters, two of his men trailing behind him. The lights have been dimmed in the lobby, just bright enough to read through a sheet of paper without squinting. There are very few people loitering in the building, but that isn’t unusual for three o’clock in the morning. 

The sight of the lobby, as abysmal and dreary as it is, soothes the ache that’s been lingering in Dazai’s chest. It’s been a while since he’s been home; the past week was dedicated to doing business outside of the city. But it feels like it’s been even longer than that since he’s gotten to kiss you.

Dazai had called you every day when he was away — of course he did. His every thought revolves around you. It’s just that a few phone calls are nothing compared to being close enough to touch you.

“All set then, boss?” Chuuya asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looks every bit as tired as Dazai feels. None of them had gotten much sleep on the mission away, and the weariness is finally settling down on them.

Dazai nods and waves his hands, dismissing Chuuya. “Get some rest. But don’t think that you can miss out on the meeting tomorrow just because we got back late,” he hums, and though Chuuya’s face twists up in annoyance, a fraction of a grin lingers on Dazai’s own. “I expect you there bright and early.” 

“Asshole,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. And, in all honesty, Dazai is too tired to even quip back. 

He watches as Chuuya and the rest of his team disperse. Some of them head to the elevator, choosing to remain under the safety of the Mafia’s ownership. Some leave the building, heading to their private homes, outside of the city.

Dazai doesn’t really care where they choose to reside, as long as they remain loyalty to him and the Mafia. So far, he hasn’t had any issues.

With a quick scan around the room, he notices that there are still eyes on him. Dazai refrains from yawning, even as the sleepy feeling creeps up on him, an almost uncontrollable strain of the muscles. It’s a simple bodily reaction, but it feels too much like an emotion, a weakness that he could reveal. How tiring it is, to be the boss, with every eye scutinizing him, searching for a mistake. 

He’s a lot more relaxed around the members he’d been a child with; they disliked the previous bosses more than they dislike him, but some still miss when Mori was alive. Some, he worries, know they’ll never be able to land a finger on Dazai — you are the much easier target. 

It’s a fear that has never left him alone, not since the day he fell in love with you. 

When his eyes slide to the corner of the room, he notices that Higuchi and Gin are still downstairs, conversing in whispers in front of a corner table. 

His eyebrows wrinkle together. They’re supposed to be with you, still watching out in case anyone decides to make a move before you’re back in his arms. 

Dazai heads toward them, straightening his lips into a scowl. He knows that neither of them particularly like him; their feelings are nothing short of neutral. But they are fiercely loyal to you.

As much as he’d like to snap at someone in his weathered state, he knows neither of them would ever do anything to put you in danger. He also knows that if you’d begged them to be left alone, they would’ve complied. 

“Higuchi,” Dazai says, his voice flattened, serious, as he tries to hide both his exhaustion and his confusion. “Is something wrong?”

The blonde straightens, her expression changing quickly from an easy smile to something anxiously stoic. Her eyes shift from him to Gin, and though she always puts on a very brave face, Dazai knows how much he intimidates her — just as Mori did before him. 

“Sorry, sir,” Higuchi says, and she steps to the side, a space between her and the other woman revealing you asleep on the table. “We thought you’d be back earlier. She wanted to stay down here and surprise you, but it got late, and…” Higuchi trails off, noticing that Dazai is already distracted, his expression softening. 

It is, perhaps, the reason that so many in the Port Mafia choose to win you over. There is very little that Dazai forgives, very little that he lets slide. You, though, have a heart that is much softer, a gentleness that he has never once in his life possessed. The bleeding organ caged within his chest is made of blooming flowers when it comes to you, ones with petals he’d let you pluck off without a single protest. 

“Oh,” Dazai says, the syllable nothing more than a puff of air, parting his cold lips. His eyes soften, body relaxing, every ounce of tension draining from his shoulders. He feels lighter, those sickening thoughts of blood and misery evaporating from his mind like a cartoonish puff of smoke. “I see.”

One of your arms is stretched out across the table, the other tucked under your head, creating a right angle from your wrist to your elbow. There is a dark shade of lipstick on your mouth, that has now smeared to your cheeks. Only one of your eyes is visible, the other pressed into your bicep. 

You’re a mess, but you’re so human; angelically beautiful, but not without the faults of a mortal. He loves you so dearly that his chest squeezes, and though Gin and Higuchi are watching, he knows—and they know—that he’s never been good at hiding his feelings for you. 

“Thank you,” Dazai says, tapping Higuchi on the shoulder. She seems to flinch at the sudden contact, but relaxes, and nods. “For staying with her.”

Higuchi is surprised by the acknowledgement, but she just bows her head, laughs, almost awkwardly, and backs away from him. “I consider her a friend. I don’t need to be thanked.”

“It’s polite to thank people for the work they’ve done for you,” Dazai says, and though he’s, perhaps, being uncharacteristically nice, you’ve softened him like butter, making him sickeningly saccharine. “Is it not?”

Higuchi opens her mouth, then draws her eyebrows together before shutting it. Better to let it go than question Dazai’s newfound benevolence — something he will spare only so often.

But she surprises Dazai with a small grin, her bangs falling into her eyes as she tilts her head just to the side. “Your darling wife has trained you well,” Higuchi says, much braver than she’d been months ago, braver still, than she’d been under Mori’s regime. 

Dazai thinks he’s grown too soft in his years with you. Though, one scan of your darling, sleeping figure erases any regret he could ever feel. 

He’s surprised by Higuchi’s reaction, but he doesn’t let it show, a smile sliding smoothly on his face before a sharp laugh escapes from him. “I’ve just grown to trust you more, Higuchi. I know that you would never betray her.” 

Higuchi smiles; there’s a fresh understanding between them that wasn’t there before. 

Dazai loves you, he loves you dearly, but he is lucky that so many others do too. How many people has he won over in the Mafia, just by being associated with you? How many have sworn their loyalty to him, only because they’re forever loyal to you? 

He supposes it doesn’t matter. You’ve got a pretty ring on your finger to prove that you’re as much his as you are the Port Mafia’s, and he doesn’t intend on ever letting you go.

Gin and Higuchi bid him a good night, and his exhaustion finally starts to overcome him, the stickiness in the back of his throat giving way to pain, his eyelids thin and scratchy. 

Dazai runs his hands over your head softly, stirring you back awake. It must be painful, the position you’re in, and he can only imagine how stiff you are. When he touches your cheek, you make a soft little sound under your breath; Dazai nearly melts.

“Sweetheart,” he hums, dragging his fingertips across your arms. “Let’s go.” 

It takes a few seconds longer before you jolt a bit, eyes fluttering open softly. You’d been in a surprisingly deep sleep, despite the lights on in the room, the rustling sound that follows the people walking around.

“Osamu?” 

Dazai hums an affirmation, and then he kisses you, just the corner of your mouth, the only part of it that he can reach. “You fell asleep,” he says, just above a whisper, kneeling slightly as you make your way to a seated position. “Time to go upstairs.”  

But you’re still half-asleep, and you fall forward, into his arms, throwing them around his neck. You smell something of fresh soap and roses, overwhelmingly sweet. Dazai almost can’t believe he’d been able to leave you for so long.  

“You’re back!” you mutter, and though it’s full of excitement, its also said through a yawn.

Dazai smiles, and breathes you in. “I am.”

“I missed you,” you kiss his shoulder, the juncture between it and his neck. “Sorry I wasn’t awake when you got here.” 

He runs his fingers up your spine and laughs, shaking his head. “It’s the middle of the night, my love. I would’ve preferred you were asleep, anyway.” A pout forms against his neck; he quickly remedies his words, and kisses the top of your head. “But I’m happy to see you. I was certainly surprised.” 

You laugh, breathless. “Not much of a surprise with me passed out on the table.” 

Dazai starts to pull away, but notices the bouquet of bright red roses on the table. It’s large — dozens and dozens of flowers stuck into the paper. They’re your favorites, ones that he always gets you, the stamp on the packaging from the same florist he shops from. His eyebrows wrinkle together. 

“Who are the flowers from?” he says, and though he tries to keep his tone unassuming, he knows how it sounds… Irritated, and perhaps a little too much like a man willing to skin anyone alive. 

You pull your head away from his shoulder and glance behind you, to the bouquet that is laid carefully against the table. “Oh,” you say, your eyes darting back down to your hands, in a way that is almost bashful. “They’re from me, actually. For you.” 

Carefully, you pick them up and hand them to him, smiling sideways and awkwardly.  

Dazai’s eyes widen. He glances at the flowers being presented to him, stares at the golden and diamond ring upon your finger, the vulnerability in your irises as you reach out the bouquet. His doubt is only obvious for a second, but it is enough to have you questioning your surprise. 

You frown, withdraw, and begin to set the bouquet down. “Do you not like them? I know they’re more of something I would like, but I just thought… Well, I love when you buy me flowers, Osamu. And you just have so many things, I thought this would be more—”

Dazai smiles. He is sick with affection, devastatingly in love with you and everything that you have to offer. You could have given him nothing, and he still would have stared at you with stars in his eyes, because you are the universe that he revolves around. You could’ve given him the world, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because he wants you and you alone, and no gift can compare to the way that you love him. 

He kisses you, catches you in the middle of a sentence, steals the air right from your lungs. The taste of you is even sweeter after so much time apart, and he curls his fingers into your scalp, traces your cheeks with his thumb. “I love you,” he says against your mouth, whispers the words, even though everyone around them sees his feelings on a flickering sign about his head. “You’re so sweet to me, even though I probably don’t deserve it.” 

You’re taken aback, and then you shake your head, rolling your eyes. You must get tired of how often he says it, how often he questions why you love a man like him. But it’s true. You are everything that’s right with the world, and Dazai is the opposite. Fate must’ve been on his side to match him with a soulmate that is everything he truly needs. 

“You spoil me too much,” you say in return, yawning again in the middle of the sentence, your hand covering your mouth daintily. “I never get the chance to do the same.” 

Dazai thinks your love spoils him enough, but he won’t bother you with anymore of those thoughts. Your eyes are drooping closed once more, and if he doesn’t get you upstairs soon, you might just sleep on the table for the rest of the morning. 

He takes the bouquet in one hand, and drags you to your feet with the other. You sway a bit, then nestle into his side, curling your arms around his waist tightly. “I’m sleepy, Osamu.” 

“Me too, sweetheart.” The two of you walk to the elevator in silence, and he realizes that he never properly expressed his gratitude. “Thank you for the flowers, angel.” 

You don’t respond, but squeeze him a little tighter. He smiles, and the elevator chimes. 

⤷ thank you sm for reading! reblogs appreciated!

༅ "wrap your legs around my waist" ༄ | beast!dazai

.pairing ➺ beast!dazai x assistant!reader

.notes ➺ n/sfw content (mdni), fem!reader, cockwarming, office sex (if you see a pattern here no u don't), praise, name calling (slut, whore etc)

not proofread throughly don't come at me lovelies 🙏🏽

➺ event details & m.list

"be a good girl and sit pretty f'me," dazai whispered, thumb circling your pretty clit as his cock was nestled deep inside you. you felt borderline delirious, being impaled on his cock without any movement− it was so, so cruel of him.

"samu... wanna move s'bad," you sniffed, pretty pink nails clawing at his crisp button up as you tried your very best not to grind down further. "shh, I know baby, I know. must be so hard for a slut like you huh?" he tilted your chin upwards to look at him, heart squeezing at the little tears clinging to your lashline. god, how he loved seeing you cry. only for this though− if anyone even thought about making you, his darling, cry− they wouldn't see the light of day again granted.

"just a few more moments, 'kay? i'm almost done, pretty," he kissed the top of your head before going back to his paperwork, fingers still playing with that cute little clit of yours and you could only sit there and take it. little whimpers and soft moans came out of your mouth everytime he shifted a little− you couldn't tell if he was doing this on purpose or not. either way, it drove you insane.

you weren't the only one being affected by this though, osamu would hiss out a curse whenever you clamped down too tightly around him, your slick dripping down his cock to his balls− completely ruining his trousers. he was resisting the urge to just bend you over his desk and fuck you stupid on his cock and he knew that's exactly what you needed− but he had to be patient. had to resist your sweet cunt clenching and unclenching around his length. you swear you could feel him throb inside of you, the feeling making butterflies erupt in your tummy.

after a few moments, you heard the soft click of the pen and osamu's slightly strained voice, "done." one moment you're cockwarming your boyf− boss, and the next moment you're being hoisted up and slammed against the wall, osamu's hushed voice hitting your ears, "wrap your legs around my waist, need to fuck you now." and you complied− jumping as he picks you up, your thighs separated by his torso while he kisses you feverishly. his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and you moaned softly, letting him in your mouth as he suckled on your tongue, hips rutting into the heat of your soft cunt, nearly slipping out from how eager he was. yeah, you definitely weren't the only one desperate to have him slamming into you.

"f-fuck− feels s'good, baby," he buried his head into the crook of your neck, hips still not slowing down− his pelvis grinding against your clit with every fast thrust. your hands clawed at his back, whining for him to take his coat off, you wanted to touch him so bad. he only chuckled, squeezing your ass between his long fingers, "wanna touch me, yeahhh? beg for it, sweet girl."

of course he'd make you beg, he always does. "wanna touch you s'o baaad− p-please!" you babbled, pulling and tugging on his jet black coat, your words breathy as you gasped, bouncing back to meet his thrusts halfway and he moaned, immensely turned on by your eagerness.

"c'mon, please don't tell me that's the best you can do? I'm sure a whore like you can do better~" he huffed, playfully smacking your ass, "now, beg. properly."

"samu! please− wanna touch you," you gasped, tugging at the hair on the back of his neck. "wanna feel you− pleasepleaseplease let me touch you−!" your cries got cut off by osamu hoisting you up again, holding you up with one arm as he hurriedly took off his coat and threw it across the room− popping the buttons off his white button-up and throwing that away aswell. his attention quickly went back to you, running his cold hands up and down your sides as he shallowly thrusted into you.

your hands immediately flew to scratch at his bandaged back, not too hard though− you know there'd be a punishment awaiting you if the bandages were damaged− and you just wanted to be osamu's good girl today.

his thrusts grew deeper, lithe fingers reaching between your bodies to play with your clit and you moaned, tightening around his cock. the brunette let out a guttural growl at the feeling of your cunt swallowing him so deliciously, the feeling was downright addicting to him− he needed to feel you cum around his cock.

his hips were slamming into you now, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that you knew they were gonna leave marks. you didn't care though− not when getting your brains fucked out by the port mafia boss.

your vision was hazy, drool dripping down your glossed lips− but you could still see how damn pretty he was. how fucking pretty osamu looked while fucking your lights out− thick brown locks disheveled, face flushed as tiny beads of sweat gathered on his forehead− some of his bangs sticking to his skin and fuck− you could almost cum from the sight alone.

what you didn't know, though, was that he was thinking the same things about you. oh, how your pretty face scrunched up in pleasure everytime he rubbed against a particular spot− it made him abuse and hit that spot over and over again, just to see your eyes slightly roll back as chants of his name rolled off your tongue. he loved the way your breasts bounced with each thrust of his unforgiving hips, made him want to bite and suck on them so much that they'd be left red and swollen. god, the mere image made his cock twitch inside of your velvety walls.

you gasped when his fingers sped up with his thrusts, ripping out gurgled mewls and moans out of you, your head lolling back against the wall as he encouraged you to cum− and you were close.

"cum on this c-cock− fuuck−!" he got cut off by his own growl, hips moving at an erratic pace− "soak this fuckin' cock, angel, now." and you did, right on queue− spraying him with your juices, now dripping down your ass cheeks as you wail from the burning overstimulation− only to get muffled by the palm of your boss. your body was completely slack in his hold, jaw unhinged as your thighs burned from the constant friction.

with one final thrust, he shuddered before flooding your insides with his seed, balls pressing against your ass and head thrown back− exposing the column of his slim throat, you wanted to bite down on it.

he slowly pulled out shortly after, pulling your panties back up and letting the waistband snap against your heated skin before smacking your ass playfully. what a damn tease. you could feel his sticky release pooling in your panties, the sensation was uncomfortable but you didn't dare disobey his wishes.

"alright, off you go now. I'm sure you have work to do, no?" osamu smirked, patting your ass softly before pushing you forward.

you wanted to wipe that little smirk off his face so bad− you were so gonna get back at him for this.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

a/n: sorry if this is ooc y'all I haven't read beast fully </3 kinda hate this but wtv, promise the next one will be better

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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

girl dad dazai ! who just loves to sneak his daughter into his work. she’s his most perfect excuse to slack off, saying ‘my baby needs her daddy time’ to a ticked off kunikida

girl dad dazai ! who carrie’s his girl in a baby carrier while he works, is on the phone, in a meeting, everything. loves to be around her at all times

girl dad dazai ! buys his little girl all the most cutest outfits, even if she’s only going to be wearing them for just a year or so. absolutely loves to take pictures and sends them all to you

girl dad dazai ! helps you take care of the baby when you’ve had your hardest days at work, slouching and dark circles under your eyes. he’ll feed the baby, change her diaper, wash her, everything you are so used to doing. also makes sure to give you a sweet kiss before doing anything

girl dad dazai ! who rocks his baby girl to sleep whenever she cries, cooing at her and holding her gently in his arms, especially when it’s at night. he isn’t one to fall asleep easily, so he spends his time watching you sleep or reading a book

girl dad dazai ! who feels insecure about how he’s doing as a father, if he’s good enough for you and the baby. he needs constant reassurance, he isn’t used to this thing …

girl dad dazai ! who buys his girl anything she points to, whether it being a barbie doll, a mini house set, a bicycle too big for her size, anything. usually ends up with you scolding him and the bike in the closet for the future

girl dad dazai ! who tries his hardest not to drink so much anymore or go out drinking late at night. he also toned down the suicide jokes, noting how you frown whenever he says it in front of the child

girl dad dazai ! whom he would do anything and everything for his two favorite girls <33

heyy, may i ask for a satoruxreader where its readers birthday and gojo and megumi are tryna bake a cake for reader? (ofc gojo has a backup cake that he bought just incase anything goes wrong cuz ofc its gojo what do you expect)

kind — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: what do you guys do when people start singing happy bday? I just smile until my cheeks hurt 🥲 anyways this is set when megumi was still a kid

"megumi, wake up!" satoru yells as he slams the door of the boy's room open. naturally, he is met with one ruthless glare, but he rapidly tries to save himself, "before you get mad, look at the date!"

the boy grumbles before getting up and checking the calendar. his eyes widen at the 'y/n's birthday' written under the date. quickly, he scrambles to his feet and starts pulling satoru downstairs and towards the entrance.

"where are we going?" satoru inquires the rushing megumi.

megumi pauses then looks at him, confused and wondering just why is this guy so stupid, "to get the cake obviously."

satoru laughs loudly and starts shaking his head, "megumi, megumi, megumi…we are going to bake the cake ourselves!"

the boy in question pales at the suggestion and looks at his sister's room in hopes of her waking up and rescuing him. however, the girl does not get the telepathic waves her brother is sending and is still soundly asleep.

so megumi is then dragged by one very excited gojo satoru. satoru eagerly wears his apron—one that has a very proud catoru on it—then he helps megumi put his own. megumi’s apron has a chibi drawing of his divine dogs and no matter how much he denies it, it’s obvious that he likes it.

while satoru gets the ingredients, megumi is laying out the rules for today’s baking mission. satoru does glare at him every now and then but he can’t exactly complain. his experiences with baking are disasters that can't be ignored.

so naturally, the little boy was in charge of the measurements cause god forbid satoru does it.

“satoru, how the hell did you mess that up?!”

“y/n, it said two spoons!”

“TABLE SPOONS NOT TWO SPOONS FROM A FREAKING SPATULA, YOU SUGAR OBSSESSED—“

so no, satoru shall never touch something related to measurements. the both of them stand in front of the ingredients, determination radiating off of them.

satoru takes hold of the recipe and starts reading, “we need a cup of white sugar!”

nodding, megumi swiftly gets the cup and hands it to satoru.

satoru pours it in the bowl and megumi has to stop him from ‘taste-testing’. from there on, they start working in (partial) harmony—fighting every now and then with megumi almost losing his marbles over the supposed adult trying to eat something every minute.

after a bit, they are finally done with the dry ingredients, each of them sporting a handful of flour on his hair. megumi glares up at satoru, “you ruined my hair.”

“now you will look more like me and people won’t think that I kidnapped you!” satoru beams but megumi easily ignores him.

said boy grumbles and starts padding away to get the wet ingredients, doing his best to gather them in his arms and delivering them in one trip. satoru simply watches him with a little grin before asking, “say, what do you think of y/n?”

after putting the ingredients on the counter, megumi looks up at satoru, confused, “why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I mean it’s obvious you like her more than me,” satoru fake sniffles—in megumi’s eyes it’s asking to be punched but oh well, “but, I want to hear you say it.”

satoru doesn’t expect him to answer so he doesn’t question any further.

satoru starts pouring the wet ingredients together. he starts humming a soft tune, your favorite song, and finally combining the ingredients together. he then hands megumi the bowl for him to mix the batter.

the boy silently does it. and they are left to bask in the silence, before megumi finally speaks up, “I think she is nice…probably one of the kindest people I have met.”

satoru smiles at him then laughs lightly, patting the boy’s head, “that’s good.”

when megumi is done with the mixing, he—with the help of gojo—pours the batter in the baking pan. megumi’s face is troubled for a moment before he looks at satoru, “you’re going to marry her, right?”

proudly, satoru nods, “was planning on doing it even before your little grumpy-self showed up.”

megumi watches satoru put the baking pan in the oven with ease. satoru then dusts his hands and megumi glares at him, “break her heart and I will fight you.”

satoru grins, frame towering over the boy, “you think you can win?”

the boy nods up at the white-haired man and gets into a fighting stance almost immediately, summoning his divine dogs. satoru quirks a brow and he seems like he is going to fight megumi as well, but, instead, he bends down to ruffle the boy’s hair.

normally, he would instantly swat his hand away, but right now, it catches megumi by surprise and he looks at satoru wide-eyed.

“you don’t have to worry about me breaking her heart.”

reluctantly, megumi looks down and mutters a small ‘good’.

after a long while, they hear your voice, “I am home!”

“Y/N!!!!!” your boyfriend screams the moment you step in. he tackles you into a very big hug and starts peppering your face in kisses, “how was your day?”

“it was okay,” you pat his head then you look at the boy, “hey, megumi! how’re you?”

megumi nods with a small smile and you chuckle before noticing what he is wearing, “what’s with the aprons, you guys?”

satoru, who hasn’t stopped kissing your cheek since you entered, replies excitedly, “we were trying cook something!”

you sweatdrop and nervously look at your boyfriend, “…and how did that turn out?”

“hey!” he huffs, “you need to have some faith in my cooking skills!”

“satoru, last time I did that you—“

“what’s that burning smell?” a sleepy tsumiki mumbles as she finally gets out of her room.

megumi and satoru share a look before satoru darts to the kitchen screaming about his masterpiece. you and the kids follow suit. when you enter, you find satoru on his knees—devastated and probably about to start act two of his ‘I am great cook’—with a very burnt cake in his hands.

tsumiki goes to pat the sad cook’s back while megumi grumbles, “I shouldn’t have unrealistic expectations anymore.”

you chuckle at the scene unfolding in front of you. however, you already find yourself walking towards satoru. he quickly throws himself into your embrace. rolling your eyes, you still rub his back to comfort him about his deceased cake.

what you don’t notice is satoru winking at megumi who gets the cue to close the lights.

you look around in the now dark room, “did the lights go out again?—“

satoru disappears from your arms and you hear rustling and whispers. however, it quickly quiets down and when the lights are back on, you’re met with quite the sight.

satoru, megumi, and tsumiki are all wearing birthday party hats. there is also a very humongous cake on the counter.

the cake has a miniature version of the four of you. mini megumi is noticeably grumpy with mini tsumiki having the sweetest smile on her face—just like the real one. mini satoru is latching onto your mini version who looks done with everything around her.

there are also towers of gifts distributed in the entire room.

but you barely have time to focus on them any further before satoru eagerly blows a birthday whistle and screaming out, “on my mark—three, two, one, go! happy birthday to you!”

the kids sing along—though megumi does it a little shyly.

overwhelmed, your eyes start to tear up and satoru’s feet naturally take him to you. his arm is around your waist as he pulls you close and continues singing for you.

megumi also makes his way to stand beside you with tsumiki tagging along. you lock eyes with satoru who smiles tenderly at you, singing, “happy birthday, dear y/n,” he presses a kiss right under your eye while wiping your tears, “happy birthday, y/n.”

“WOHOOO!” satoru loudly cheers and picks you up, twirling you around making you laugh. when he sets you down, he presses one loud smooch to your cheek once again.

tsumiki giggles before she quips, “blow the candle, y/n!”

your head snaps towards satoru who is already smirking at you. you narrow your eyes, “don’t you even dare. it’s my birthday!”

“really now?” he tilts his head before easily throwing you over his shoulder and quickly blowing out all the candles, ignoring your nonstop hitting of his back. he then starts spinning around and his laughter fills the room.

“SATORU, YOU’RE GOING TO DROP ME! STOP!”

“NEVERRRRR!”

meanwhile, megumi and tsumiki are left sighing at the scene in front of them.

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i think that dazai osamu would be an absolute baby about being sick. i think you’d get either one million texts saying he’s dying or one cryptic one that has you running to his place in fear that he’s in danger only to find him cuddled up in his bed with a runny nose.

SHARING IS (NOT) CARING: PROFESSOR!DAZAI

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he has to teach your class for the day, but there's no way either of you will be able to focus with you sitting in the front row.

contents: fem!reader. college AU. professor x student. not proofread and written in under five minutes. i forgot how to write dazai, whoops. i'll probably write more in this AU later on bc i think it has potential. -1K words.

professor!dazai is well aware that he shouldn't be romantically involved with a student, but justifies it to himself by reasoning that you're not in his class, so it should be okay. even though your university's policy allows teacher-student relationships if they aren't in the same field, he still tries to keep it mostly a secret—after all, he wouldn't want to risk anything on your part.

but one day, your professor's absent, and luckily (or not), dazai's the only one available to step in for the day. imagine his surprise when he realizes that the class he hesitantly agreed to sub for today was your class, and as luck would have it, you sit in the front row.

"alright, class, i don't really know what you're supposed to be doing, but—"

"there should be an outline on the desk, sir," the girl next to you pipes up, smiling bashfully at dazai. he pauses and nods at her gratefully, doing his best to not make eye contact with you as he skims over the outline. you're equally as unsure as he is, because you never expected to be in this situation: with your boyfriend as your actual professor, even if it was just for a day.

"oh, great, i have to give a lecture," dazai grumbles, holding the papers in the same hand that's also holding a cup of steaming hot coffee. he sighs, eyes professionally surveying the room before finally settling on you. "would you mind giving me a quick summary of whatever you're supposed to be learning today?" he asks, hiding his little smile behind the cup of coffee he presses to his lips.

you nod, but right before you open your mouth, the girl next to you speaks up again. "i can do it, professor," she offers, beaming at dazai as if she's the personification of joy and happiness. and it's almost comical, the way dazai barely spares her a glance before returning his attention to you.

so you give him a brief summary of what your actual professor had said your class would be covering today, and dazai nods along, eyes focused intently on the outline in his hand. when you finish speaking, he stays quiet for another second before shrugging and sitting down at the teacher's desk. "i'll just find a video on it, 'cause i don't know enough to teach the subject. and honestly, i don't want to, either."

as expected.

twenty minutes go by with some youtuber's monotone voice droning on in the background, but instead of studiously taking notes (like you should be doing), you find yourself staring at dazai instead. his eyes are fixed on his phone, and it's a mystery to everyone in the room as to what he's doing. it's only when you pick up your own phone to check the time do you see a bunch of missed messages from him:

osamu: this class is so boring

osamu: how do u sit through this every. day.

osamu: i'm already falling asleep wtf

osamu: babe answer me :(

osamu: do you hate me :( if not answer me :(

you bite your lip in a futile effort to hide the smile that's threatening to grow on your lips, which would be suspicious, considering that there's practically nothing to smile about in this dull lecture hall.

you: shut up i'm trying to focus

dazai shoots you a subtle grin from his spot up front and replies quickly enough to make you wonder if all this time, he's just been staring at your name on his phone.

osamu: ik you're not paying attention

osamu: play me in 8 ball

you: no

"you in the front," dazai calls from his desk, clearly directing his voice towards you. he raises an eyebrow coyly, and continues, "shouldn't you be taking notes?"

the girl next to you snickers, not seeming to catch the look you give her. dazai clears his throat and looks at you pointedly, obviously trying not to show his amusement.

"okay," you mutter, shooting dazai a vicious death glare. he winks back at you, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"what was that?" he asks in response, pretending not to have heard you. it's embarrassingly obvious that he's just messing with you, and you wonder why you ever agreed to date this man in the first place—of course he'd pull something like this the one day he gets to have authority over you.

"yes, professor," you say with a witheringly forced smile. dazai's smile turns uncertain as he dips his head in reply and instantly picks up his phone.

osamu: i'm sorry pls don't make me sleep on the couch

you: i won't :)

you: you'll be out on the porch tonight :)

osamu: wait no

osamu: i love u

osamu: pls don't do this to me ilysm

"hey," the girl next to you whispers, drawing your attention away from your phone and to her uncomfortably close voice. "isn't professor dazai hot?"

she's not a quiet whisperer, and something about dazai's forcibly calm expression makes you certain that he can hear every word. "i guess," you answer noncommittally. hopefully, your tone doesn't betray how close you are to clawing out your eyes.

"do you think he's single?"

"no. and even if he was, i doubt you'd be his type," you reply with a sickeningly sweet smile. dazai coughs into his arm, obviously trying to hide the laugh he had just choked out. the girl's eye twitches, and you hold your smile until she rolls her eyes and looks away.

osamu: ur so funny i'll kms

you: ur still sleeping on the porch.

osamu: babe :(

❦ FAMILY MEN

ft. kita, suna, atsumu, osamu

MASTERLIST

—kita

another long and exhausting week. because your husband always gets up early and comes back late everyday because of his work, and you watch the baby all day, you both are dead to the world when you sleep until you hear the cries of your child. it’s instinct; so when you didn’t hear the baby in the middle of the night, you woke up anyway with worry. only to find shinsuke bouncing them, his lips singing a soft and out of tune lullaby that took you back to your childhood. you know for a fact that your child didn’t cry that night, your husband just wanted to hold them while they slept, despite his tired eyes, he wouldn’t trade that moment for the world.

—suna

“no, i’m mom’s favourite.” your husband argued rather vehemently with your son as you ate dinner together. it was endearing to listen to, especially because of the fact that your son couldn’t speak. his baby babbling created bubbles of his food along his mouth. rintaro shook his head and wiped him with the napkin.

“yea, right, i’m way better at volleyball than you.” he scoffed at his kid. “that’s why your mom fell in love with me in the first place.”

“rin,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “stop it.”

he sent you an innocent smile before turning to the baby again, he made sure you could see him mouth ‘you won’t beat me.’

—atsumu

if you couldn’t find your toddler, she was with her dad. today, they were in the garage, atsumu had arm and chest day, he sat on the bench, daughter in his arms as he curled her. despite the smile on his lips, his breathing and counting were even, only interrupted by her continuous giggles as she squirmed in his hold. when the set was done, he set her down and you saw them look at each other with stars in their eyes.

“’m gonna be as strong as you when i grow up!” she told him.

“hell yea!” atsumu raised his hand and your little girl jumped to smack is hand.

“hell yea!” she repeated and atsumu’s face dropped.

“…don’t tell yer mum i taught’cha that.”

—osamu

“ya gotta shape it with love, baby.” he told his daughter, hands full of rice as they stood in the kitchen.

your daughter pouted, fingers stuck with rice as she glared at the tuna filling that fell on the cutting board. “i make with hate.” she said and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“yer too much like yer mum—go sit down.” osamu shooed her to you, and she happily obliged as she ate the rice off her fingers.

“why’d you do that, baby?” you asked and pet her head. “you’re great at this.”

“daddy makes the best onigiri.” she smiled at you before turning back to her father and watched him work. “i want him to cook for me my whole life.”

she clearly didn’t mean for him to hear, but you could see the foolish smile tugging at his lips.

One day, you finally decide to join Katsuki at the gym. As soon as Bakugou walks through the doors, the place practically pauses. Everyone’s eyes are on him, some with smiles, others with admiring glances.

You grin to yourself, pleased to see it wasn’t just you who noticed the results of your boyfriend’s hard work. While you’re taking in the gym’s vibe, you hear Katsuki calling your name softly from where the barbells are.

“Come help me with my set.” He gestures over to where he’s standing, and you walk over quickly, eager to join him.

Katsuki plops down onto a bench, grabbing two barbells and setting them on the mat. He sits beside them, waiting with his usual impatient-but-soft expression as you walk over and slide your foot under the barbells.

You start a set of sit-ups, but when you feel Katsuki's hand brush against your thigh, you sit up with a sigh, beads of sweat already making their way down your face.

“God, I’m so unfit…”

“You’re fine, babe.” Katsuki leans forward, grabbing a towel and gently dabbing it across your forehead. “Look at you, though… sweating already.” He smirks, then adds, “Wanna help me with my push-ups?”

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on your lips. “How am I supposed to help you with your push-ups?”

Katsuki grins, stands up, and walks over to return the barbells to their proper place. When he comes back, he lowers himself into a plank position and shoots you a look.

“Sit on my back. Cheer me on.”

You can’t help but laugh, crawling toward him with a shake of your head. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“You sure you want to miss this?” He hums, a playful challenge in his tone.

“Do I have a choice?” you tease, but you can't resist. Carefully, you crawl onto his back, crossing your legs and resting your hands gently on his shoulder blades. “Okay, here goes…” You say with mock hesitation, though your heart is fluttering a little.

“Hold on tight, baby, or you’ll fall,” he grunts, and you feel the slight tension in his body. Slowly, he lowers himself to the floor and pushes back up, without even breaking a sweat.

You sit there, completely entranced, as he picks up his pace effortlessly. The way his muscles flex, the steady rhythm of his push-ups—it’s almost hypnotizing.

“Where’s my encouragement, baby?” he calls out between reps, smirking.

Caught in the moment, you start whispering praises without even realizing it. “You’re incredible. Seriously. Look at you.”

“You better be cheering me on like you mean it,” he teases, not missing a beat.

You chuckle, your heart swelling with admiration, and give him a soft squeeze on his shoulder. “Okay, okay, you’re the strongest guy in here. Happy?”

“Good,” he says with a satisfied grin, pushing himself up again. “Now, don’t go falling off. I might need a spotter.”

God, you love your strong boyfriend—and all his ridiculous, charming ways.

-SUNRISE-

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ – NOTE♡: had a dream abt this few nights ago and decided to turn it into a fic lmfaoo

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ – paring: prince!dazai x succubus!reader (fem.)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ – synopsis: feeling bored out of his mind, prince dazai decides to summon a demon to fuck on the altar

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ – tw//: SUB DAZAI🤭, bratty dazai, soft dom reader, riding, blowjobs/oral(m.), teasing, edging, overstim, demons/rituals, religious themes, exhibitionism, crying, begging, praising, mentions of teaching, caught(at the end), monster fucking(no literally cuz reader is a demon), slight bribery(mori💀), inappropriate use of the phrase 'father, please forgive me'

everything was perfect, the candles lit dimly enough to brighten up the dampened room, the pillars each with their own cross, the rows of benches empty; everyone out of sight; the night where everyone sleeps, he summons a demon. a book given by mori ougai, a local doctor from the frill town of the outskirts, lay out in his palms; dropping upon seeing the glaring pink light coming from the magic circle

"use it to your hearts content," he says, "you may relieve yourself, but don't overdo it." dazai rolls his eyes at the words from the doctor, "you know mori, I don't believe in folk tales. those are for the ones beneath the chosen ones," being handed the book anyways; mori ignores the prince's words, "ah- come again? you know it's not nice to talk about your money makers.. er- citizens of your land." with his nail underneath his other nail, picking at the dirt that amassed from his long journey to the town; without a shower. "do they matter?" dazai asks, "very," mori responded, picking up an unknown concoction from his desk drawer, "ughh!!!" dazai groans, tossing his arms and head back as his legs stretch out, "I'm so boredd!! mori give me that!" dazai points to the vial being held in the doctors hand and the older man shook his head with a smile; a smile that dazai could recognize, "now, now; see here, I have something for you," waving the vial around, "I'll give you this if you try out a summoning from that book." dazai gave the older man a confused look, "summoning?"

"yes, summoning."

"but why?"

"why, you ask? well, you said it yourself, folktales are only for the ones standing on the sides; but this is a summoning journal for the ones at the top."

"no way.." with eyes wide as saucers; the whole church lit up as the furniture got tossed around as the winds picked up speed. he didn't even know how there was wind in an indoor place, but who was he to complain when a hot beauty emerged from the blinding light. staring down at him, presumably mockingly, "and who do we have here?" her angelic like tone, one that lures men with irresistible beauty, "holy..." dazai couldn't believe what he was seeing, a literal demon has spawned. in the church. where the holy communists and holy capitalists live. the demon spreads her wings, a smile adorn her face, "such place to be summoned at is quiet the memorable experience, don't you think?" she flaps her wings. now on the ground, dazai could see more of her features. horns etched onto the side of her head;tail swishing around, the tip a heart shape;no clothes on at all;the mark on her abdomen, glowing pink;talons as sharp as an eagle. she notices his staring and does a little twirl, "stop staring!~" she giggles, "I might get addicted to the attention," having walked closer to him, the demon pulls on his belt, slacks becoming undone in the matter of seconds.

"wha-!" she muffles his noise of suprise with a kiss. dazai could feel the tip of his dick being toyed with, her delicate fingers fluttering over it, occasionally giving him a stroke or two, "ha..~ oh- fuck!- hnng!~" throwing his head back as the demon slowly slides down with him, the two of them now sitting on the floor; the demon still teasing, "c'mon!!!" dazai whines, "i summoned you to fuck not to play!" rolling her eyes at his tantrum she starts stroking his dick, "suck or fuck?" she asks, "why not both?" she raises a brow; teasing smile on her face, "oh? does the lords son want to pay double the price?" she leans down, her head now next to dazai's dick, "after all.." licking a strip up his erect penis, "someone like you would be able to afford it, right?~" she opens her jaw wide, swallowing him whole, "!!!~♡" dazai's mouth went gape, as she starts bobbing her head. "wha- hgn.. HNGGN~♡ oh~ oh~ oh shit! wait- slow down! I might..-" barely managing to get out, dazai tries to pull the demon off his dick; sucking him dry seemed like her goal, but he wanted to savor every last minute of this pleasure. not listening to his pleas, she sucks; cheeks hollowing, dazai now flat on his back as he takes the pleasurable abuse. the blowjob was enough to make him feel like he's on cloud nine but not enough to make him orgasm; she was purposely giving him tiny kitten licks to his tip as soon as she pulled off him; to edge him as soon as she felt him do his final twitch.

dazai groans in frustration as soon as he's denied his orgasm again, "ughh!! you stupid slut!" he yells from the ground, "just suck and do your job!- GAAHHMNNN!!!~~♡♡♡" arching his back off the ground, he cums- white sticky substance shooting into the demon's mouth; swallowing every last drop. "oh- that was..." his chest heaves up and down as he heaves, "mmm~! yum~~" the demon grins in delight, licking her lips, "did- did you just?.." the demon nods her head, "yep~ i'm a succubus after all~" she winks playfully. welp that explained why the very first thing she did to him was suck him off. not that he was complaining though, dazai was very much enjoying being used as food. he might have to make time to visit that doctor again... to gift him an enormous amount of money as thanks. having now leveled out his breathing and regained his strength back, dazai gets up and reaches for his pants, "thanks for the good time! but i really have to get going-"

"where the hell do you think you're going?" he froze at the voice; so daunting and deep; threatening to rip his organs out alive. stopping in his tracks, dazai looks back towards the succubus who's glaring at him; murder on her mind, "um.." he says nervously, retracting his arm away from his slacks, "what's wrong?" she scoffs as she picks him up and tosses him over her shoulder? "woah-! hold on! wait, where- what are you doing???" dazai's mantra of questions were all ignored by the succubus aa she props him down on the alter, now kneeling down before him; head in between his legs as she takes his dick in her mouth again. dazai moans in suprise, "GH- Wha- what- OGH!~" he curls as he feels the intense sensation run through him; this time, she was slurping so hard he could feel his dick practically falling apart. his lips forming an o-shape as he cums, "GHHHH-~~♡♡♡" his cum shot down her throat, she took leisure in sucking him till all he let out was pained whines, begging her to stop as he couldn't take it anymore. with a pop, she pulls off dazai's poor penis, "hmph!!!" she huffed angrily, crossing her arms, "how dare you summon me and leave me high and dry!!" she scrunches, and dazai could only internally cringe. oh, so that's what this is all about.

"look.. im sorry, but i have an important event i can't miss today." dazai apologizes to the semen sucking demon. she glares at him even harsher, and he can't help but flinch. what's a human to a literal spawn of hell? okay, well, maybe there's not much difference between dazai and a spawn of hell, but he was still born human. dazai quickly took out his pocket watch and saw that it was only an hour after 3am, maybe. just maybe, he could do another round. preferably him fucking her though. "actually, maybe i can-" feeling himself being shoved down, he feels the demon straddle his lap, "can what? stay and feed me for the rest of your life?~" she teases him, grinding her soaking pussy against his dick. dazai hisses upon contact, in pleasure, "feed? sure, but not tomorrow.." he pants out, the effect of her arousal finally getting to him, "no." she repositions herself, aligning herself with his dick, "now," sinking her cunt onto his dick, both mewl in pleasure; dazai could barely formulate a single thought in his head, his eyes already rolled back as he's about to burst another load. she moans; hips never failing to stop; bouncing up and down, grinding forward, backward, sideways; never ending. "OH GOD-~~♡♡♡" dazai let's out a loud moan, "that's right, sweetheart, let it all out~♡" the succubus moans as she rides him into oblivion. one more, only one more clamp around his dick and he was seeing white, "OH~ F-FATHER!!!~♡♡♡" he cums, "P-PLEASE FORGIVE MEEeeEE!!♡♡♡~~" his voice cracks, shooting his seed up the demon's cunt. she revels in delight, spreading her wings as she cums as well- still riding out her orgasm as dazai is well into overstimulation at this point.

"pl-pleasseee!!" dazai begs, tired;overstimulated; can't help but need more of her; to ejaculate more. "what's the magic word?~" she grinds slowly, her pelvic rubbing against his, "i-" he feels her grinding slower, "NO-NONONO!! PLEASE!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEEEEEASEE!!!~" he cries, frustration taking over his lithe form; he attemps to thrust upward, but the demon was using some kind of spell to hold him in place. "good boy~♡" she praised him, increasing her pace, dazai moans happily, but it still wasn't enough, "more!" he demands, but the demon only tsked in disappointment at him, "that's not what i taught you," he movements slowed again, and dazai was on the verge of crying. he could feel the eyes of the holy staring down at him with disgust, but he didn't care; never cared, so with one last attempt to regain control, the young prince opens his mouth; but was rudely interrupted by a long snake-like tongue running deep inside, exploring his cavern as well as thrusting it down his throat. dazai chokes and gags on the tongue, the slow grind of her hips never ceasing only made to fuel his anger more. despite having a spell on him, dazai attempts to thrash around- anything to gain closure, but of course, the demon had other plans. noticing his lack of response and will to fight, she rolls her hips in a way that would get him to forget about fighting back, but not enough to get off. "no~, no~, no~! bad boy!!" she humps him. that was it, the final straw that pushed him over the edge.

"IM SORRY!! PLEASE~~♡" dazai begs, crying; tears flowing, streaming down his cheeks, " 'M SORRY!!~♡" he's now doing his damn best to get his hips to thrust up, inside her soaking pussy, "FUCK!-- PLEASE, JUST!-" he wails, and finally, the succubus takes pity, "aww~ there he goes! aren't you such a goooooddd boyyyy???~" she smiles, now picking up a ferocious pace; instantly dazai cums, "GAHG-GGGHHHHHNNN-OOGG-EEE!!!!♡♡♡♡~~~" his hips finally being to lift in the air, thrusts inside the wonderful pussy as deep as he can, "GMHNMMMM!!!~♡♡" his feet are kicking in the air, as he strains his legs; back arches while his head is thrown all the way back, his eyes nowhere to be seen. his body twitched under the succubus, who only moaned as she was absorbing all of dazai's semen. "yes!~ yes;yes;yes!!~~♡" she yells in delight, her wings out and flapping, "that's it! good boy!!! cum! cum in deep!♡" with what little cum he had left in his sack, he spurts the last of it. dazai felt as if he was about to pass out, the sex having been more intense than he's ever experienced; feeling her move her hips up, his dick falling out; he tilts his head so he could see his cum; his own cum, dripping out of her along with her juices, "see all that?" she spreads her pussy's lips, "that's all your hard work~ good job!~♡" she giggles, and then topples down next to him, "do i have to feed you for the rest of the week?" he asks, but the demon turns her head and faces him with a devious smile, "for the rest of your life." dazai hums, content with whatever verbal contract he just agreed to. if it meant fucking good pussy everyday while relieving his stress, then he's all for it. dazai stares at the ceiling, nothing but the goldish hue coming from outside; it must have been sunrise already. silence consumed the atmosphere, he tilts his head to the side and finds the demon staring at him, "whats your name?" he asks, if he was going to go through a life long contract with a demon from the underworld he might as well learn her name. he could see her smile, possibly a genuine one, "y/n," he smiles at the name, "pretty. mine is dazai osamu." he sighs, just as he was about to pass the hell out, the sound of the church's door slammed open and there he heard his mother's panicked voice, "OSAMU! there you are, i was looking everywhere for you- WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

oh, right, today was his father's birthday...

made by ©churuai pls don't steal

rbs and comments appreciated <3