Father And Son

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? - G.S.

Synopsis. There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, Satoru’s blindfold gets used, overstimulation (male + female), lots of cum, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, making Gojo Satoru cum in his pants, breaking the bed, mating press, pet names (my girl), swearing.

Word count. 3.0k

A/N. Can you tell it’s ovulation week. PART 2 HERE. Art by @_3aem on x.

Ah~ It’s the 21st century, they should really make these curses self-exorcizing. 

It’s been a long day of dealing with countless curses and five droning clan meetings (all of which he missed, oops). Now, Satoru loiters around your shared penthouse apartment - waiting for you to come back home from work.

Hmm, maybe he’ll quickly drop by and see what the first years are up to? He probably didn’t have a class right now. 

But first, Satoru grins, opening the refrigerator to grab at the secret stash of sweets all the way in the back - something sweet.

---

It was odd to step into a tense silence suffocating your home - usually used to being met with whines of “how dare you take so long!” and “you won’t believe what that emo kid did today.” as soon as you walked in through the door.

Was Satoru running late on a mission today?  

It wasn’t surprising, the man had to be everywhere - it’s not like he always has the time to teleport and welcome you home. Yet, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off as you made your way into the kitchen.

Cursing whoever invented the work week, the cold air of the refrigerator hits you as you open it to grab a drink, wondering when your fiancé will be home.

Wait.

Tired brain distinctly noting the lack of that familiar flash of hot pink, you double-take as you glare at the back of the refrigerator - as if willing it to materialize in front of you. Where was that?

“That” being the gag gift your friends had given you last Christmas to playful wolf whistles. Some large slab of “aphrodisiac chocolate” - probably normal chocolate - that you’d skeptically thrown in with your secret candy stash for a rainy day. 

Satoru had ransacked your goods again, you sigh. But if he was home…then where was he?

“Toru? Are you home?” you call out in confusion, only to be met with a deafening silence. 

Concern etched on your face, you set the drink down to look for Satoru, footsteps thumping against the hardwood floors at each tense step. 

Approaching the bedroom, a low, unmistakable moan filters through the heavy door. Satoru.

Heartbeat racing and worry coursing through you, you cautiously push the door open - only to be met with a sight that makes your heart stop.

There, sprawled across your bed in just his boxers, a delicate flush spread enticingly along his sculpted body, was your Satoru. 

Something about this scene felt more than a simple evening nap. The air was heady and thick with something. Maybe it was that familiar hot pink wrapper lying empty at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was the way Satoru’s usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded, curtained by his tousled hair. 

Or maybe it was his hand squeezing the large outline of his achingly hard cock through his boxers. Circling the dark spot around his leaking tip. Massaging his heavy balls. Teasing. 

“You’re home‘ he rasps out, voice strangled and snapping you out of your trance. 

“Wha- yes. Toru, what happened?” you sputter out, eyes locked on the way his cock twitched animalistically at the sound of your voice.

In the blink of an eye, Satoru’s gotten up from the bed, muscled arms caging you against the wall. His rock-hard erection presses into your front, precum smearing through his boxers against your work clothes.

“You’re home.” he repeats, sounding as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each breath that fans your hair.

You could feel the pulsing of your cunt as your eyes flit from the sheen of sweat decorating his body to the blindfold haphazardly hanging off his neck. Satoru finally raises his eyes to look at you.

Oh, he’s already lost his sanity.

Pupils blown, those blue eyes you love now a lustful black - a predatory glint in them that made a carnal part of your cunt twitch. His mouth spreads into a wolfish grin, teeth bared as if ready to eat you up. 

A shiver runs down your spine.

“Toru…you okay?”

“You’re home.” he breathes out, as if a prayer. 

“Satoru.”

The simple call of his name sealed your fate.

The buttons hit the ground before you realize what he’s doing. Ripping your shirt off, pulling off your bra, fisting your clothes in his hands as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Too impatient - too starved - to remove your skirt, he pulls it to shreds off your hips.

“Woah- slow down there.” you squeal as he drops to Satoru knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties, tugging with his teeth. You know he’ll buy you ten more to replace what he’s torn, but jeez where was the decorum?

“Can’t” he slurs, peeking up at you with dazed eyes. Was your Satoru even here with you?

“What?” 

“Can’t stop.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your twitching cunt. 

And before you know it, sharp teeth bite around your panties, ripping them to shreds. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, miles away, grinning devilishly around the soaked fabric in his mouth. 

Shit, what have you gotten yourself into.

Despite your thobbing pussy, you soothe “Now, Toru. Why don’t we just-”

“Shut up.” he mutters. And he does - words catching in your throat as Satoru dives nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst..

Nose rubbing your pulsing clit in rough circles, he breathes you in so sinfully, letting out a throaty groan as he does. He bullies his tongue past your dripping folds, stretching you, dipping in and out of your quivering entrance. Over and over. In and out.

You were losing your mind with each rough push of Satoru’s warm tongue. Dizzying pace forcing lewd whimpers out of your mouth that mix with the squelches of his mouth on your pussy. 

You buck your hips desperately into his face, and amidst his merciless abuse on your cunt, you barely notice the way he presses his body against yours. 

Shit, so this is why he’s so fucking feral - Satoru’s cock was painfully hard, swollen and throbbing against your leg. Fuck- you weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

He grind his hips into you, precum soaking your bare legs. With a low whimper at the back of his throat, Satoru’s tongue fucks you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.

Maybe it’s the harsh abuse of his mouth on your swollen lips, nose catching on your clit just right. Or maybe it’s the feeling of your slick dripping down the corners of his mouth, onto your thighs and mixing with the precum of his aching erection. 

Before you can even register it, you’re cumming all over Satoru’s mouth, grip tight on his white locks and hips riding his pretty face.

Greedily lapping at your quivering cunt, he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet juices pooling around his tongue. 

In the back of your mind, you recognize the feeling of Satoru’s warm cum smearing against your leg. Did- Did Gojo Satoru just come in his underwear while eating you out?

Sinfully, he licks at the mixture of your juices dripping down your legs, eyes closed as if tasting a delicacy. He was going to be the death of you.

As soon as your high bates, Satoru stands to his full height. Towering above you with eyes that looked like he wanted to positively eat you alive.

“T-Toru…are you okay?” 

But your fiancé stays silent, throbbing erection still straining painfully against his wet boxers as he shoves you against the cold wall. Rough hands on your hips, presenting your dripping cunt to him and arching you to his will.

A large hand smacks the wall beside your head, plaster crumbling under his strength. Shit, if he keeps going at this pace then nothing in the house will survive Satoru - including you. 

You feel the cum-soaked fabric of his boxers grinding against your ass, his hands pulling and groping every bit of skin he can reach.

“Toru, take it off.” you whine out, words dripping in lust.

You don’t need to tell Satoru twice. With grace that he wouldn’t give your clothes, his boxers are on the ground, painfully hard cock hitting his abs. 

You can feel the slick dripping down your legs as you look behind your shoulder to see one hand wrapped tightly around his large cock. Pulling in slow, languid motions up to the furiously flushed tip. His heavy balls twitch as he thumbs the prominent vein along the side.

“I want-”

You can’t even finish your sentence before Satoru’s bullying his massive cock into your snug cunt. Plush walls desperately trying to adjust to his size as he sheaths himself in your hot core. 

You moan at the delicious stretch of your pussy. It’s not like you haven’t done this before - yet, where Satoru was usually suave in sex, right now it was replaced by pure, feral need. With his tip kissing your cervix as he pushed animalistically into your cunt - you didn’t know if you’d make it out alive. 

“Hah- Toru it’s too big. Ah! I can’t-.”

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed. 

Satoru presses into you inch by fucking inch, groaning at the tight ring of muscles trying to both push him out and suck him in desperately. It was so animalistic.

It seems Satoru’s body moves before his mind, hips fucking into your dripping pussy recklessly. Harsh thrusts, not even pulling all the way out to ram into you as he usually does - as if he can’t bear to part with your wet core. His balls sting your cunt as they smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting him to you.

“Ah- So good f’me, my girl. Always- so good.” he gasps out at the heavenly feeling of your dripping cunt sucking him back in at each thrust. “Hngh! Mmm more. I need more. Need it so bad.”

Hands arching your back into him now grope the expanse of your skin, before wrapping around your body to lift you off the floor. 

“Ah! Toru, what- hngh-” you choke on your words at the new angle. 

Satoru’s body bows into you, cock still slamming inside you at a feral pace midair. Not even a hair’s breadth between your bodies. 

With one hand he forces you to look up at him, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. Pretty mouth sucking your tongue as he did with your cunt.

If you were in a better state of mind, you’d notice the slight glow tinging his lustful eyes. The electricity thrumming through his fingers. Yet you already knew - Satoru was absolutely losing it.

Your feet dangle off the ground as he holds you securely, length reaching impossibly deeper inside you. Prominent vein grazing that one spot over and over.

“Hngh- Oh my god, Toru. S’too much!” you pull away to whine. 

“Open your mouth.” he murmurs raspily. As if body on auto-pilot, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out for what he was about to give.

Satoru’s stream of spit is warm on your tongue, making you clench around his merciless cock. He lets out a drawn-out groan, eyes boring down at you, holding a glint of the same insanity he has when he exorcizes curses, “My nasty girl. Can’t get enough of you.”

You moan at his words, hands reaching behind you to grab on the blindfold dangling on his neck. “Toru more-” you gasp out, your tight grip causing him to bow his head with a groan, cock twitching ferally. 

“Fuck! More? You fucking want more?” he groans out, voice wrecked with pleasure. 

You let out a yelp as his teeth dig into your neck - hard enough that you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up. Yet, your grip on his blindfold never waves, pulling him closer as he fucks roughly into your snug cunt. 

Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor. Unforgiving. Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. “Ah! Toru s’good.” 

You both cum with strangled gasps. A low keen at the back of Satoru’s throat, and he’s pumping hot ropes of cum into your awaiting pussy. Tears stinging your eyes at your sensitivity, all you know is a wave of pleasure as you ride out your climax on the ramming of his hips and the how full you are of his seed.

His hand still draws hurried, desperate circles on your clit. You squeal at the overstimulation, tears clinging to yours lashes. “Toru- hngh!” you can barely get out the words, his hips slamming into yours mercilessly as Satoru milks his cock desperately on your quivering pussy. 

“Shut up. You said you wanted more. You’re gonna get more, my little slut.” he mutters carnally.

Ah, you can’t do this. You were going to fucking pass out.

“One- more.” he moans.

Your thighs clench around him, pushing your plush walls deeper as he lets out raspy whimpers with each thrust. “Hah- hngh.” 

“Shit- Toru I’m-” Your climax hits you with a jolt, body twitching in pain and pleasure from the oversensitivity as your cunt flutters around his cock - not even being able to tell when Satoru’s orgasm ends and when yours starts. 

You feel a tear hit your shoulder, overstimulation too much for his poor cock as his seed coats your walls once more. It drips out of you, forming a pool on the floor as he pulls out - for only a second before you’re thrown on the bed. 

Orgasm-hazed brain barely having time to register what is happening before Satoru stalks towards you from the foot of the bed. Unhurriedly approaching you as you scoot towards the headboard.

Your pussy jumps exhaustedly at the sight of him - eyes darkened and narrowed at you like a predator that has spotted his prey. A devilish smirk stretches across his swollen lips, glossed prettily with spit and slick. 

Toru, I-I don’-” you words slur out. 

“One- one more, my girl. Please.” Satoru whimpers, throat shot from what transpired just before. His cock twitches, glistening with cum and slick, dripping onto the fresh bedsheets. 

As he looms closer, you wonder how the fuck Satoru was still holding up - was this all because of the chocolate? You have half the mind to wonder whether he was using reversed cursed technique to keep you both alive.

You mewl deliriously at the feeling of your legs being thrown on his shoulders. Eyes blown and face flushed your favorite shade of pink, he licks a long stripe up your ankles, voice cracking as he moans sinfully. 

Satoru’s flushed tip teases your entrance, dragging along your swollen folds. Fuck. Shit. Maybe you wouldn’t even mind dying if it was with his cock rammed in your snug cunt.

Barely even lucid, he thrusts harshly into you - your tight entrance readily sucking up his flushed tip. You both hiss at the sensitivity. Surely, one of you was going to pass out. 

Hand moving to grasp the blindfold around his neck, you pull him to you. Your hamstrings burn in protest as Satoru bends down to attach his lips with yours, moving down until you were folded in half. 

Tongue tangling with yours, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, fiery with an intensity that made you unsure if either of you would make it out of this alive. 

Heartbeat roaring in your ears, you don’t notice the crack! of the bed and neither does Satoru. Too caught up in desperately reaching whatever number orgasm it was this night. 

Moans incoherent, your body convulses, nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back as the bed creaks in protest. A strangled groan leaves his mouth, cock throbbing inside you - or maybe that was your quivering cunt. At this point you really didn’t know anymore. 

“Shit- ah! Fuck. I’m- M’cumming. M’cumming. Hngh- cumming!” he whines out, voice ragged and breathing unstable. Delicate tears streak down his face, dripping onto your quivering body below him. Salty.

You can only let out exhausted whines, too fucked out to form any proper sentences.

Hot seed gushing inside you again, it overflows out of you, cunt dripping and too full to take anymore. Yet, Satoru still fucks into you until he sees stars and his poor cock is cumming dry. You can barely even feel your climax, distant tingles and the only thing on your mind being Satoru Satoru Satoru. 

The air leaves your lungs as he collapses on top of you. Skin flushed and sticking to yours. Body twitching as his poor cock neverendingly shoots blanks inside of you. Which number was this even?

That’s when you black out.

Floating in and out of dreams of blue, blue skies and mini Satorus running around, you wake up with a start. Well, as much of a start as you could with your entire body aching as if you got run over by a truck - and then an entire zoo after.

Bleary eyes taking in your surroundings, you distinctly realize that you’re spread out on the living room couch. 

What happened.

“Hey, you okay?” a hoarse voice sounds from beside you. You could barely recognize it as your fiancé’s, words jagged from…whatever it was before.

“You…are you okay?” you rasp out, raising a brow exhaustedly. Satoru chuckles sheepishly, tenderly smoothing over the blanket placed on top of you. What a change from before - are you sure this is the same guy?

“Well…the wall is crumbling, we broke the bed, and I’m pretty sure my dick won’t work again for the next couple years.” he gets out in one breath. At your silence, he continues “And I think my favorite blindfold is out of commission.”

“...wow.”

“Wow.” 

“You lecher, you ate from my secret stash, didn’t you?”

“...”

A few days later, opening the refrigerator, you’re met with a wall of hot pink. A sticky note on top reading in Satoru’s hasty scrawl, “This time you take one too :D”

A/N. Wrote this while watching The Garfield Show.

Plagiarism not authorized.

y'know how kittens scream bloody murder and alter their voices when they're left alone but immediately pull a 180 when they get attention ? katsuki. it's him it's him and he's so irritating about it.

the moment he feels you've been gone for too long, he starts belting, singing–screeching your name until you show up. he just doesn't seem to notice how hard it makes you shit your pants when he pulls that kind of stunt.

you're sure he can hear the way you stomp like a herd of elephants all the way from the living room, you're ready for a fire, a burglar –anything.

you find your boyfriend calmly munching on some chips scrolling on his phone.

you're convinced you've lost your mind when he blinks back at you calmly, like he expected you to explain yourself.

"katsuki."

"mm ?" his cheeks puff out a little as he chews another handful of chips.

you feel your fingers twitch "what the hell was that ?! why'd you scream ?"

he has the nerve to furrow his brows "didn't scream. you weren't responding when i was callin' you normally, i just spoke louder."

"you didn't speak–you yelled my name out like you were getting bludgeoned." you wheeze out.

katsuki huffs, putting his phone down next to him on the couch. a slight pout forms onto his face "..well why were you gone so long ?"

"i was peeing." you deadpan, eyes wide. "i was in the bathroom, i told you that."

silence. and more silence, then katsuki discards his bowl of chips and reaches for your arm "well ya took too long. c'mere." before pulling you towards him and squeezing his head into your shoulder.

it's even worse when you don't tell him you're leaving. it could be the middle of the night with him having to wake up early the next day. you could've just gone to get a glass of water and moments later he's screeching like a banshee. you're used to it by now and after chugging down your drink with a "coming !" he's already practically wide awake (ignore his eyes drooping and the very loud yawn he let out and quickly tried to shut his mouth when you walked in) arms crossed and sitting up in bed. he'll give you a quick once over and huff, that pout again, and he speaks.

"where'd you go ? don't jus' leave like that. ." you hum, going along with his every complaint of how you 'took too long'. he shoves your head into his chest like you're a plushie and noses at your shoulder. you feel him mutter against your skin before falling asleep again."had me worried 'bout you an' shit. ."

𖧹katsuki bakugou x fem reader

𖧹smut; katsuki makes you record him eating you out.

𖧹1.0k

𖧹mdni

“just like that” he says, red eyes glancing at the phone in your hand, the camera pulled up as you zoom in on the way his lips ghost over your cunt. “make sure you hold it still."

he's scheduled for a two week long mission out of the country and he needs something to tie him over.

you try— really try to keep the camera steady, but the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds has you gasping, your entire body jolting as the camera tilts upward, catching only the crown of his spiky blonde hair. his tongue is hot, firm, and deliberate as it drags from your entrance to your clit, circling it just enough to tease but not enough to satisfy.

"fuck," you breathe, scrambling to fix the angle. you bring the phone down, focusing on his sharp jaw and the way it moves as he devours you, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck softly. you can barely suppress the moan that builds in your throat, your head pressing back into the pillow as your chest heaves.

katsuki doesn't let up, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nub with maddening precision. the lewd sounds of his mouth- wet, sticky, and unrelenting-are captured perfectly by the microphone, the obscene audio only adding to your growing arousal.

you’re so lost in the pleasure that you forget what you’re supposed to be doing, letting the phone in your hand drop until nothing but darkness can be seen.

his mouth pulls away with an audible pop, and your hazy eyes snap open at the sudden loss of contact. his brow furrows, a sharp growl rumbling from his chest. "don't make me fucking repeat myself," he snaps, his voice gruff and commanding, but the fire in his gaze betrays just how much he's enjoying watching you squirm.

he reaches up, gripping your wrist with his calloused fingers to guide your hand—and the phone— back to where he wants it. "hold it steady, or i'll make you start all over."

you whimper softly at his words, the threat sending a shiver down your spine. his eyes flash with mischief as he watches you struggle to comply, your hand trembling with the effort to keep the camera on him.

"good," he mutters, dipping his head back down between your thighs. "now don't fuck it up again."

his tongue returns to your clit, flicking and swirling and sucking with a precision that has your thighs threatening to clamp tightly around his head. his blonde hair tickles your inner thighs and the phone shakes slightly.

"katsuki," you moan, your voice high-pitched and breathless. he growls in response, his eyes snapping up to meet yours through the lens of the phone. the intensity in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly. you look away.

"look at me," he commands, pulling back just enough to catch his breath. his lips are glistening, his face slick with your arousal as he nips at your inner thigh. "i want you to see this. I want you to remember who makes you fall apart like this when I'm gone."

his possessiveness ignites something inside you, and you nod weakly, barely able to process his words as his tongue returns to its assault. he's ruthless now, his movements faster and more deliberate, his lips and tongue working in tandem to push you closer to the edge. the knot in your stomach tightens, your legs beginning to shake as pleasure consumes you.

he chuckles against your core, the vibrations only adding to the unbearable pleasure. the wet sounds of his mouth working your over are obscene, loud enough to be caught on the recording. you can barely focus on keeping your composure, let alone holding the phone steady.

"you close, baby?" he asks, his voice muffled as he sucks your clit into his mouth. "I can feel you shaking. come on, let it go. let me hear those pretty fucking sounds as you cum on my tongue."

his words are your undoing. your back arches off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your climax crashes over you. the phone trembles in your hand, your grip faltering as waves of pleasure roll through you. he doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to lap at you, dragging out your orgasm until you're left a trembling, gasping mess.

when he finally pulls away, his lips are curved into a smug grin, face coated in your arousal and he couldn't look happier. "good girl," he praises, his voice low and husky. he takes the phone from your weak grip, tapping the screen to review the footage with a satisfied hum. "this'll keep me entertained while I'm gone."

you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent, chest heaving as you catch your breath. katsuki sets the phone on the nightstand, crawling up your body until his lips hover over yours. he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, before pulling back just enough to whisper against your mouth.

"don't think we're done yet," he murmurs, his tone dark and teasing. "i've got a whole week to make up for. might as well record me fucking that tight little pussy next."

his words make your breath hitch, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you as he smirks, his hands already roaming your body in preparation for round two.

morning, darling ! bsd men

౨ৎ… morning scenarios with the bsd men <3 ft. dazai, kunikida, ranpo, sigma and chuuya

౨ৎ… fluff, slightly suggestive in kunikida and dazai’s parts, mostly domestic scenarios, established relationship, they’re all lovesick idiots ₊ ⊹ 6k words total

— OSAMU DAZAI;

one thing about dazai is this man is clingy as fuck in the mornings (not that he usually is any different). as soon as he wakes up he’ll pepper your face with kisses, caress your skin and play with your hair not caring if you are awake or not. most of the time the first thing you utter as soon as you start to wake up is “ughh.. osamu…” which always gets him to chuckle like a schoolboy who played a prank on his parents.

“good morning, m’lady” he says in his la-di-da voice as you stare him down, wondering how the fuck he’s so energetic in the morning. you know the answer though: between his sleep issues and his usual “very healthy” mindset, this man could not, for the life of him, behave normally. you sometimes cursed yourself for getting into a relationship with this man (which never lasted long, considering that you melted each time he touched you).

you get up lazily, yawning loudly before you stretch your back. dazai’s eyes wander over your belly the second your shirt rolls up, like the weirdo that he is and the moment your spine makes a tiny cracking sound and dazai lets out an over-the-top, exaggerated noise of shock “MY BEAUTIFUL LADY! YOU’LL HURT THY BACK!” he dramatises as you squint your eyes at him yet again. oh, how he loved to piss you off when you hadn’t woken up yet.

“can you stop talking to me like we’re in a medieval fantasy book? you’re annoying” you sigh as dazai slaps a hand to his chest, gasping yet again. it only makes you roll your eyes as he continues to speak in a very bad accent and tries not to chuckle at the end of every sentence.

“but, my lady! that is most preposterous! how could i ever hold my tongue with such a divine sight in front of me?!” you’re so close to smacking this man. dazai’s front finally breaks and he starts laughing loudly, clutching his stomach with his bandaged hands as you roll your eyes at him.

“stop it” and when dazai leans back against the headboard, eyes staring you up and down: from your bed head to the way the oversized shirt you were wearing hangs low on your chest, he can’t help but bite his lip at the sight. even in the morning, after just waking up, you were incredibly stunning to him.

“yes ma’am” he says with absolutely no hesitation, patting his lap to make you get closer. when you look at him unconvinced, dazai sucks his teeth and gets closer, picking you up and placing you on his lap. when your hands instinctively wrap around his neck and start playing with the ends of his dark curls, dazai flashes you a smile. he rubs your back gently, tapping his fingertips on your clothed skin “want me to help with the back pain? i happen to be very skilled with my hands.”

you scoff at the remark as his grin only gets wider “you could actually massage it, you know? it actually hurts pretty bad” you reply, your skin buzzing from the feel of his cold fingers sliding under your shirt to make contact with your skin. dazai’s fingers travel on the curve of your spine, eyes glued to yours as he extends his neck upwards.

“i could.. for a fair price” how you wish you could wipe that cocky smile off his face.. but considering how sore your back was from having slept in an awkward position all night, you considered it. you tuck one side of his hair behind his ear and, cupping his jaw gently, you bring him in for a kiss. dazai hums against your mouth, content to get the payment he deserves and slowly pushes you on your back, towering over you to deepen the kiss and make it last a little longer than he knew you intended it to be.

“turn. lay on your belly for me” you comply with a satisfied smile, rolling on your chest before pulling the shirt off of you. dazai’s fingers trace your bare back, nails grazing at your sides before he places himself properly behind you. you put your arms under your head expectantly, shivering when you feel his lips make contact with your skin instead.

“osamu!” you threaten as he smiles, stealing a few more kisses to the back of your neck and your shoulder blades. god, this man was shameless.

“sorry, my love. couldn’t resist” his affirmation makes you smile to yourself for a bit as he reaches for the body cream you used in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. he layers it on his hands, starting to make upward motions with his palms on your back. when you let out a shaken breath, he stops “where does it hurt most?”

“here” you point to the area which is causing you the most trouble, letting dazai take care of it. turns out he wasn’t lying. his palms and fingers make wonders on your back as he expertly massages your tense muscles. you gasp repeatedly as your back de-tenses, point in which dazai stops, sighs and removes his hands. you turn around, confused “why’d you stop?”

“listen.. if you’re gonna make those pornographic sounds it’s gonna become a problem” dazai’s lips curl into a mischievous smile, one that makes you give him an ugly stare again.

“you’re just a weirdo” dazai chuckles at your annoyed remark, bending to press a chaste kiss to your cheekbone before getting back to work.

“i was joking… probably” you roll your eyes again, knowing well enough he was not joking. he continues to rub and massage your back until most of the pain and soreness is gone. you put your shirt back on, putting the lid on the cream back on while dazai thoroughly washes his hands in the bathroom. when he’s back in the room, however, he’s quick to jump on you, requesting even more kisses.

“how did i do?” he asks gingerly, his eyes widening in excitement. you sigh softly, playing with the edge of the bandage that’s wrapped around his neck.

“you did great actually. but you might’ve broken a few of my bones just now…” you both chuckle at the remark. dazai relaxes instantly when you kiss him, softly touching the side of your face and promising to massage you again whenever you want. you think he might need to soon, considering how he refuses to get off of you, crushing you with his weight the whole day.

— KUNIKIDA DOPPO;

we already know by now that kunikida is stressed if his plans don’t go right. so when you turn off his alarm so he can sleep in one beautiful morning, he panics as soon as he wakes up.

and trust me, he’s ready to scold you like you’re a child for how you behaved. sure, it’s nice of you to want him to get more rest but his ideals? what will happen to them? of course he has to wake up at 7am on weekends and review his ideals notebook over and over, are you kidding?

but the moment he sets his glasses on the bridge of his nose and turns to you his demeanour falls and his heart begins to race against his chest. there you are, curled into his chest and holding onto his waist like you’re afraid he’ll disappear, there you are, sleeping soundly because of his presence. oh, this man is so flustered. i’m talking red cheeks and closed eyes because he can’t handle how cute you are.

his hand finds its way to your face and he brushes his fingertips through your hair, lightly grazing your scalp before cradling the back of your head to bring you in for a kiss. and he’s beating himself over it too. how could he steal a kiss so shamelessly without asking permission? (even if you had told him numerous times that you didn’t mind) how could he do such a thing to his beautiful girl?

he can’t help it. as stern and polite as kunikida is, this man turns to goo the moment you enter the room, glance his way, open your mouth, and touch him in the slightest. his defiance always falters and whatever you ask for you get. a simple question will get kunikida to automatically say ‘yes’, without thinking, without even letting you finish. he’s just that in love with you.

and he doesn’t want to leave bed now. he doesn’t want to break free from your warm embrace. but now that he’s awake and can’t fall asleep, he badly craves a coffee. so, with regret, he stands up slightly and replaces the warmth of his body with the fluffiness of his pillow, hoping it would suffice. but don’t think he’s gonna leave without pressing another kiss to your furrowed brows. oh no. he keeps his lips pressed against your wrinkled skin for a few seconds, getting it to relax before muttering a small “i apologise” and exiting the bedroom.

kunikida heads straight to the kitchen. sure, it would be more logical to use the bathroom first but in all honesty, the last thing he needs is to see himself all flustered from seeing you cuddled up to him alone. he knows the image of himself will only make his face get redder and then what? you’ll wake up and make fun of him for being a lovesick fool.

like the time you made fun of him for becoming red after seeing you in the anniversary outfit that you had picked up specifically for your date. or when you made fun of him for how shy he acted when he slid the promise ring on your finger, asking you if you’d be his one day. legally, of course. or the day you slightly suggested, as a joke, to relieve kunikida’s stress from under the desk, right in the office. the poor guy almost had a panic attack.

and now here he was, smiling like an idiot as his coffee brewed, as he stirred into the cup. kunikida had never felt this way, about anyone. to him, you were ideal. which at first was scary to him, considering you didn’t meet all of his ideal qualities in a woman (would be damn near impossible anyway). but he loved you, he wanted you around him all the time and– “what are you smiling for?”

he turns around sharply spilling half of the coffee in his cup on his shirt and cursing at himself for doing so. you laugh from the hallway, shoulder pressed to the doorframe as you step into the kitchen, grabbing the hands of your panicked boyfriend “easy now, did you burn yourself?” you check every spot on his hands for burn marks before looking up at him.

“no.. no.. uhm, did i wake you?” kunikida stammers as he sets the cup down on the counter “fuck” he sharply states one more time as you chuckle. he inspects the state of his shirt, sighing in exasperation when he sees the big brown spot on his smooth blue cloth. before he can do anything rash, however, you cup his face with your hands.

“you didn’t. it’s fine, my love. i’ll take care of it, okay?” he feels his temperature drop a bit. you were always the one who could calm him down, the one who could ground him when he acted out of line for whatever little mishap. he gives you a small nod, parting away from you to hurry and make you a coffee. as you jump up on the counter, your boyfriend expertly prepares your coffee, handing it to you and fixing his glasses.

“how did you sleep?” his eyes rest over your figure a little, taking note of the satisfaction in your features when you take a sip of coffee. he follows suit, bringing the cup to his lips and tasting whatever he has left in it. he thinks it’s probably time to make another one. maybe this one he won’t spill.

“hmm, good. even better that my handsome boyfriend was ogling me like i was the most precious thing” and here goes the rest of the coffee, as kunikida projectile spits it in the sink. well, what can you say? at least he reached the sink. you can’t help but laugh at his silly action as he goes red all the way to his ears “say, you’re not upset i turned off your alarm, are you?”

kunikida takes a few moments to compose himself, his fingers pressed to his mouth before he turns again. his pupils widen at the sight of you, his pretty little thing, up on the counter and tilting your head with the biggest grin on your face. normally, if it was anyone else, he’d get angry. but you? who could get angry at you? clearing his throat, he finally gets closer.

“i’m not” your hands find his neck, as you pull him between your legs just so he’s closer. “i have to admit.. the extra sleep felt good… but don’t do it again” he sternly asks, earning a pout from you. he wants to kiss those pretty lips so bad, oh so bad. kunikida’s mind is going absolutely feral as he watches you get all pouty at his request.

“you don’t want to spend time in bed with me?”

“that’s not the point, darling, i–“

“come on, kuni.. you know you liked it.. indulge me” you beg sweetly. you watch as his eyes light up at the nickname, a small snicker evading his mouth before he agrees sheepishly “so then..” you add, closing the space between the two of you until your noises touch “care to join me back in bed?”

and he shouldn’t. kunikida’s day had already started. he got up, drank his coffee (or what was left of it) and was supposed to get dressed and go do some work. but as mentioned previously: this man simply cannot resist you. so he lets himself get persuaded, especially when your lips touch his so gently. you didn’t have to, really, he was already going to say yes. but an extra kiss sure does help.

— EDOGAWA RANPO;

there is not one man in this whole wide world who hates waking up in the morning more than ranpo does. the moment the sun shines through the window and hits his closed eyelids, this man starts groaning and whining, most of the time still asleep, at how uncomfortable it feels. ranpo loves naps, he loves staying in the comfort of his own bed and even more so that he had you as a pillow.

you open your eyes to the sound of your boyfriend huffing and puffing about being woken up by the noise of the busy streets outside. his messy dark hair tickles your chin, his cheek still pressed to your chest as he keeps his eyes shut, attempting to go back to sleep and failing miserably. his grip on your waist tightens and sighs, finally speaking properly “i know you’re awake.”

you let out an amused breath, hand going straight to his hair to play with it “did you deduct that with your amazing skills or did you realise you’ve woken me up?” ranpo’s head shoots up in a faux shocked expression, dramatically gasping as he removes his upper body from yours. never mind that his legs were still tangled with yours, if you were gonna give him sass he was going to reply with sass.

“excuse me? are you denying my amazing ability? are you excusing the behaviour of these insane people yelling outside for no reason? i am a victim!” he dramatises, hitting his closed fist on the mattress. you giggle, cupping his cheek with one hand as you scan his pouty face “it’s the weekend! why do people have to be going places at this hour?”

“it’s 1pm, baby” you remind him gently. that however doesn’t stop him from further jutting his lip out and parting away from you completely so he can glance out the window with the nastiest look he could give. to appear even more menacing, ranpo crosses his arms in annoyance as he continues to complain about his ruined beauty sleep. you think he resembles a very cute dumpling.

sliding across the sheets, your arms find his waist just as quick as your lips find that spot on his neck that makes him ticklish. ranpo’s whines are interrupted by a small “hey!” as his face brightens from your touch. you sigh into his neck, taking in his scent and allowing him to cool down from his little tantrum. you watch the leaves of a tree move outside from a slight breeze.

“i really cherish my naps.. i find this inhumane!” ranpo continues to protest even after he’s completely relaxed in your arms, head thrown back against your shoulder. you smile at this child-like behaviour, pressing kisses to his cheek, jaw, neck and all the way down to his exposed collarbone. you watch as his skin starts to get redder, feel the heat grow into his cheeks and continue to shower him with affection.

“you missed a spot..” ranpo finally says, pouting his lips and pointing at them with his index. can this man get any cuter? the answer is yes, because the moment you don’t immediately attack his lips, ranpo moves closer, eyes glued to yours “kiss.. please” how can you deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried. you press a tiny kiss between his brows, two down the bridge of his nose, another two to the tip before you arrive at his lips, smooching them tenderly.

ranpo sighs against your lips, finally calming down as he holds onto your hand. his long eyelashes reveal his starstruck eyes and he reaches in again, kissing you with more heat than before. you give in, returning the kiss fully as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you sneak a hand under his shirt to caress his waist. the tip of his nose brushes against your cheek, his chin bumps into yours and before you know it you’re both out of breath.

“feeling better?” you ask softly, making ranpo grin all the way to his ears. he leans into your touch, sighing softly before an idea appears in his mind, making him jump. startled, you watch him as he jumps out of bed with excitement, raising his hand in the sky like he reached an epiphany.

“yes! in fact, i have the most wonderful idea!” you fear what his idea might involve. ranpo was smart, incredibly smart, sure. but the man wasn’t known for having necessarily good ideas, or safe ones, for that matter. he grabs your hands happily dragging you into the kitchen after him. hopping on the counter, ranpo makes his announcement “we should make pancakes! yaaayy!!”

you smile at him, letting out a soft breath before agreeing. after all, denying ranpo of both sleep, cuddles and sweets would be considered a federal crime. at least in his book. you look through the drawers and cabinets for all the necessary utensils before asking him to search for the ingredients in the fridge.

as expected, cooking with ranpo is messy. from butting in because “he knows better” to taste testing the batter so much you have to chase him for the bowl, it’s safe to say that by the time the pancakes are done, you don’t even feel hungry anymore. you sit yourself on the couch, totally spent as ranpo jumps on the cushion next to you and sets the empty pancakes on the coffee table alongside the different sweet fillings and sauces. after a while of messily preparing breakfast, he urges you to open wide “ahhhh!”

“baby, i don’t think—“ you don’t get to finish before a forkful of dessert is shoved into your mouth. you fearfully chew on the food, scared to gulp it down for a very good reason: ranpo had the sweetest tooth ever, which meant the pancake would probably be filled with anything and everything to make it sweeter. you simply didn’t want a toothache.

to your surprise, however, the taste is familiar and you turn around to your smiling boyfriend who prepares another bite for you “like it? i filled it with your favourite jam!” the urge to kiss him has never been stronger. so you decide to give into it, grabbing his face and pressing a wet, sticky-sweet smooch to his lips. taken aback, ranpo almost drops the fork he was holding and looks up at you, face flushed as you pull away and take the other bite he prepared “guess you like it, huh?”

“of course i do! made by the best boyfriend of all time!” you can basically see his back straighten and his chest widen at the sudden praise, a big grin on his lips as he gives you his characteristic smile before wholeheartedly agreeing “where’s your pancakes?…” you ask, looking around before you see it.

plate chock-full of pancakes that are filled with different kinds of jams, chocolate and tons of whipped cream with sprinkles. your eyes go wide, mouth going dry as ranpo proudly looks at his delicacy “tasty-looking, right? but i won’t share! i already prepared your breakfast for you!”

you spend the next few minutes enjoying the pancakes he prepared for you and then swiping the whipped cream off of his lips (sometimes with your thumb, sometimes by kissing him). and obviously, ranpo is elated by his culinary prowess. you just wonder how he’s still so calm and relaxed after eating so much sugar, insisting on taking another nap, right there on the couch. cuddles included and required !

— SIGMA;

sigma is a man of habit. from running the casino to your relationship, he always does his best to provide. he wakes up early, he does his chores around the house and then goes to work up until late, taking care of matters he only entrusts himself to. his reward? soft touches, giggly kisses and whispered “i love you’s” from his one and only. and he won’t have it any other way.

that’s why, when sigma wakes up before the sun rises, he takes a few good minutes to take you in. a good patch of his life was meaningless. besides the casino, he knew nothing, he felt like nothing. and when you appeared, that changed. sigma takes a while to reminisce all the moments between the two of you, a soft smile on his lips as he caresses your cheek with his hand. when your eyelids shift and you smile at his touch, sigma’s face goes red, completely enamoured with you.

he wants to show you how much he cares, how much he loves you. and so, he brings the covers all the way to your neck before getting up and opening the window for some fresh air. he goes to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and doing his skincare (not that he needed any, he enjoyed the routine) before returning to your shared bedroom and closing the window, afraid his princess might catch a cold.

he worries the noise he’s been making by walking around might wake you up soon… and you’ll definitely be hungry! and how could he let his darling go hungry? sigma glances lovingly at your sleeping figure one more time before stepping out into the hallway and making his way to the kitchen and starting to browse through the cookbook for a breakfast fit for his beloved.

he ties his long silky hair in a bun, ties your pretty apron to his waist and gets to work instantly. from eggs to steamed rice and rolled omelette with a side of seaweed (his speciality), this man takes his time to cook up a few tasty dishes that you can share together when you wake up. he cuts up your favourite fruit, sets it on a platter and looks around to see what he can add to the already delicious meals he prepared.

“ah! orange juice!” he exclaims, starting to cut up fresh oranges to make you your beverage of choice. the kitchen table is soon filled with plates of all kinds, different beverages and even napkins. as he sets down the last two glasses on the table, there sound of dragged footsteps reaches the room.

and when you enter: oh, what a sight! the table is filled with delicious dishes that entice your senses, sun rays hitting the table and your beautiful boyfriend, bent over the table and looking up at you as he places a glass of orange juice down “good morning” sigma gives you a small smile, straightening his back as he scans your awed face.

“what’s all this?” you inquire, now fully awake. you get closer, examining the dishes and taking notice of the beautiful designs on them. your boyfriend had not only made you breakfast, but he had also taken care of every bit of detail to make sure it was perfect “do we.. have someone over?” you smile as you scan all the food on the table. sure, it was all amazing and appetising but.. how were the two of you going to eat all of that?

“uh, no.. i… i made you breakfast. i didn’t know what you wanted but i didn’t want to wait until you woke up. i wanted it to be ready for you when you got up so–“ sigma’s explanation is cut off by a tender kiss to his lips, one that makes his mind spin and his ears catch a tint of red. he doesn’t know what to do with his hands for a couple of seconds, not with the way your palms rest at the base of his neck, holding him gently like he’s the most special thing (and he is). he soon wraps his arms around you, kissing back and pulling away slightly, only so he can apply two more pecks to your lips.

“i think it might be too much food” you smile against his lips, making him blush. was it too much? had he gone overboard? sigma’s palms start to sweat, something you notice. you take his face into your palms, looking at him softly “thank you, my love. you didn’t have to. but thank you” and he pulls you back in, alternating between longer, needier kisses and soft hurried ones that make you both chuckle against each other. when he finally pulls away, he urges you to sit down, dragging a chair for you like the gentleman he is.

“oh! i forgot the straws!” he exclaims, rushing back to the counter to grab two straws for your juice before finally sitting down across from you. “please.. let me know how i did” he urges, pointing at the dishes as you glance at him. it doesn’t take long for you to start taking bites from everything, expressing just how tasty everything is, how nicely paired the condiments are and how the food melts in your mouth.

sigma’s chin rests in his palm, watching you with loving eyes as you eat your fill from every dish. he might be full just from looking at you eating what he prepared with such hastiness that you honestly don’t even realise he hasn’t touched the food for a good 10 minutes. the moment you do, however… “do not let me eat all this by myself, i’m gonna get sick! it’s all too good!”

sigma chuckles, taking a sip of his orange juices before his eyes stop back on your cute cheeks that get puffier with each bite “i made it for you anyway. eat all you’d like.” you sit the chopsticks down with a bang, attempting to swallow the food in your mouth quicker so you can lecture him about not eating.

sigma is amused, thoroughly enjoying your cute behaviour before he finally gives in and takes some food for himself. you’re right, the food he prepared wasn’t nearly as bad as he feared it was. but you enjoying it made him feel amazing nonetheless. he despises the thought that in a few minutes, he’ll have to get up, get dressed and be out the door to go to work, but spending time with you is all the more rewarding.

as he grabs his keys and puts on his shoes, untying his hair from the previous bun, sigma turns to you. you smooth the ridges in his coat, slide your palms over his shoulders and detangle some strands of hair before grabbing his face and pressing several kisses to his glossy lips “that apron really suited you, you know?” you smile as you brush sigma’s bangs away from his eyes.

sigma’s eyes soften, his heart swells and he fights the urge to not pick you up and trap you in his arms. he hates that he has to leave for work, he hates that you can’t go with him. he knows that he’d be distracted the whole day if you were there but does it matter? he thinks it’s unfair he can’t have you next to him all the time “really? i should cook for you more often then.”

“maybe you should. i’m starting to think you’re a better cook than me anyway” you both smile, kissing passionately and not intending to let go. unfortunately for you, his alarm rings, signalling that an incident that requires his immediate attention has happened in the casino. he sighs says his ‘see you later’, opens the door and halts before turning back and grabbing you into another kiss “go! you’ll be late! one more kiss and you won’t leave!”

sigma smiles, pressing his forehead onto yours and drinking you in one last time before finally whispering “see you tonight” and exiting the apartment. he knew you were right. one more kiss and his employees would’ve had to deal with the incident. he hopes the day will pass by quick so he can be back in your arms again.

— NAKAHARA CHUUYA;

now, our beloved ginger wakes up hungover most days of the week. after a job well done nothing goes better than a few bottles of wine shared with his pretty girl and, considering how lightweight he is, it also guarantees him some restful sleep.

it’s hell for him when he wakes up though. his eyes, head and body hurt, he can’t go back to sleep but can’t function properly either. he requires medicine to get his day going. and on most occasions, the best medicine to make chuuya’s head stop spinning is a few kisses from you.

“fuck…” the man beside you growls in annoyance as he turns on his back, placing his hand on his eyes to block out the sunlight “the light is too fucking loud….” he complains in a high-pitched manner before mumbling a string of curses and a bunch of ‘i will never drink again’. it makes you chuckle, amused at his behaviour as he only seems to get more and more annoyed.

“loud? don’t you mean bright?” you smile, scooting over so you can rest your chin on his chest, your right index drawing circles on his clothed skin. chuuya grumbles something unintelligible, glancing down at you and catching your eyes right before you bend your face down to press a kiss to his peck. with a bite to his lip, this man is gone completely, heart thumping against his chest as heat rises to his cheeks. what was he even mad about?

“whatever…” he sighs, rolling his eyes before covering them again with a groan. one of your hands slide down to his waist, gently holding onto it as you use the other to push yourself upwards so you can place chaste kisses on his chin. a stray kiss to chuuya’s neck makes him giggle for a second and he lets you remove his hand away so you can litter his face with your affections “shit, it’s bright..”

“oh? looks like you’re sobering up already!” you tease him, making him roll his eyes and childishly mock your words before starting to caress your back. he lets himself get kissed until he’s melting into the covers and, when he thinks you’ve played games enough he grabs your chin and stares at your lips, at your knowing smile, before he takes your mouth on his. it calms him, having you on top of him, hands either on the side of his face or his chest as you give him lazy morning kisses to wake him up.

unfortunately, the dream breaks away quite quickly when you break free from his grasp, urging him to take the hangover medicine on the nightstand before getting dressed. chuuya’s eyes wander over your figure as he takes the pill, gulping it down with a chug of water “i’m going to go and buy some rice. we ran out and you need to eat” you explain as you press a kiss between his brows.

his muscles relax, hand going to your wrist and caressing the hand that rested on his face. when you specifically instruct him not to come with you and stay in bed, chuuya’s anger gets the best of him again “i don’t need shitty rice! you can go later! i’m not even hungry!” and like it was meant to betray him, his stomach lets out a loud growl that makes you grin.

“i won’t be long, baby. you won’t even notice my absence” you try to talk him out of his little tantrum. no use. chuuya should be able to enjoy spending time with his girl on weekend mornings! why would you want to disturb his peace? seeing him get so bothered by it was nonetheless extremely cute. and seeing as you’re set on going to the store to cook breakfast for him, that’s when chuuya thinks of a plan.

“one more kiss? and then you go?” he almost begs, seemingly not bothered anymore by you leaving. you comply, bending over to place a sweet kiss on his lips, letting him hold the back of your head. and right before you intend to pull away…

“mmph– chuuya!” he grabs you by your waist, pulling you on top of him and rolling over, securing his grip on you with both his arms and his legs. you look at him absolutely shocked, insisting he lets go! no use. chuuya’s acting no older than a 5 year old, burying his face in the crook of your neck to escape the light and refusing to let go.

“just order takeout! i’ll pay for it…” he says as he tightens his grip more and more. your muscles relax, your arms wrap around him and the only thing you can do is open your phone, selecting his favourite food and ordering it before starting to run your hand through his messy orange curls. it takes a while for him to agree to get out of bed. hell, he even insists you don’t leave the bed once the delivery guy rings the doorbell.

“you’re so clingy” you say matter-of-factly as he rolls his eyes, chewing on his food. your thumb grazes the corner of his mouth, swiping some sauce away from his lip before staring into his stormy eyes. by the look of his face, he was starting to sober up more and more, leaving the goofy and silly drunk chuuya behind and bringing the port mafia’s gravity user back… which was in fact probably more silly in secret than he was when drunk.

“yeah yeah well… don’t act like you don’t like it” chuuya retorts, smiling as he hears your laughter reach his ears. he says nothing, bending over the table and giving you a small kiss to your lips before turning back to his food, which he eats quickly due to how hungry he actually was. he promises not to drink any more wine that night. a promise he doesn’t keep, obviously. but what can you do? he’s your man. and if taking care of him in the morning after getting drunk was what it took to have him, you’d keep doing it.

© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.

OK I HV AN IDEA,,,,

Chuuya and Dazai (seperately) with a fem s/o whos a telekinetic ability user and is also a university student? shes busy studying bcs shes like- an overachiever and when Chuuya and Dazai came home to their shared apartment, shes on her desk studying, textbooks and papers flying around her with some blue ish aura (probably ability color). Maybe the boys are shocked at first but they js admired her? maybe opting to help her rest as well, and maybe she refused so the boys js accompany her like js sitting beside her while she studies. or if she agrees to rest, theyll dote on her!!

may be hard w dazai cuz he'll cancel her ability when he touches her tho🤔 but up to u!

scenarios and/or headcannons pls! thanks <3

anon i’ll have u know this appeared right as my midterms week started !! the way my eyes widened when this ask was sent haha, ughh what i would give to have either of them !! anyway, i hope u like it !!

it uh… it kinda got long… sowwy-

love, lia

siri, play hermit the frog by marina-

the clock struck one a.m., but you didn’t even notice, not when you were stuck in your late night-early morning study sessions.

let’s set the scene: it was hell-week season, aka exam season, and you know what that means !! that’s right, an insane amount of all-nighters to study and re-learn every subject you’re to take the next day! !!

and that was what exactly you were doing.

you have a reputation to uphold, you can’t stray from your studies, right? after all, what are you without your high scores, without your good grades?

so on you push, focusing on the key terms and definitions and writing them down so you won’t forget.

you’re running for class valedictorian, after all

you’re too busy reading your textbooks that you didn’t even realize you were subconsciously making your papers, pencils, and pens fly around you, like an ethereal subject for a painting, with you as the muse.

you were in the center, hair framing your face so beautifully as you focused intently on your books, the soft, azure glow that came from using your ability lighting up your side of the room.

too busy, you didn’t notice your beloved boyfriend walk in the room, his footsteps as quiet as a cat, nor did you notice the gentle, awed smile he has on his face as he gazed at you.

osamu dazai

dazai has seen you use your ability countless times before, but god… it’s just as beautiful and as ethereal as the first time and it never fails to amaze and shock him.

the way your materials floated beside you in a gentle, harmonious manner, never touching each other but never falling out of line either? yeah, he’s in awe.

your ability kind of mirrors a certain shortstack’s gravity manipulation, with the floating things and the like, but if asked, he’d say that yours was so much prettier and more useful than his former partner’s. no he will not elaborate, no he will not rescind his answer.

suck on that, nakahara-

however, he of all people knew how tiring it was to stay up this late, especially if it was your exam season.

especially if he saw you yawning and struggling to keep your eyes awake. so, like the genius he is, he started to plan.

his solution?

SCENARIO:

one tap on the shoulder, that’s all it took.

just one, single tap.

that’s all it took for you to come crashing down and safely caught in his arms while the rest of your study materials fell to the ground around the both of you. shocked by what had happened, you gaze up at a smug, smirking dazai, and resist the urge to punch that pretty face of his, if only because he was so, so warm, and you were so, so tired…

“argh, what was that for?” you complain instead, pouting. “i was studying, you know! what if i’ll fail?”

dazai clicked his tongue. “bella, i personally think that will never happen. besides, you’re the smartest person i know! second to me, of course, but—ow, sorry—but, my point stands! you need to rest, my dear, it’s unhealthy to keep pushing yourself too hard. it’s one in the morning! isn’t that cuddle-with-osamu hours? how dare you break my heart!”

“but you just came home, didn’t you?” you point out. “and i’ll have you know i need to study, ‘samu, i can’t afford to go to school without studying for my tests, what kind of student does that? so please, can you let me down? i really, really need to study more.”

dazai sighs, shaking his head. he’d try and convince you to stop and sleep, but you sounded so worried, and who was he to deny his precious belladonna?

instead, he came up with a compromise.

“fine,” he decides instead, placing you down on your bed, but only after he kissed your forehead, “you may go back to studying. but after fifteen minutes, you are to take a break and cuddle me, alright?”

“but—“ you stutter out, but he silences you by placing a finger on your lips.

“ah, ah, ah, bella! no ifs or buts!” he huffed, his hands now moving to poke your cheeks. “i will not stand to the side and see you tire yourself out by relentlessly studying. i love you, (name), but please, darling, take a break.”

you sigh, nodding. “fine…”

dazai grins, leaning down to whisper to your ear. “good girl~”

chuuya nakahara

work had ended a little late, so by the time chuuya entered the shared penthouse and took off his fancy coat and hat, you were slowly falling asleep whilst floating in midair.

of course, this did not escape his notice, as soon as he saw you floating around, your study materials such as books, papers, and even your highlighters surrounding you like a protective barrier, he couldn't help but smile in awe. such a pretty sight to behold, and it's all his.

moments like these make him realize the true meaning of being in love.

...that was, of course, until he saw you struggling to stay awake. he glances at the clock and his eyes widen upon seeing the time.

what type of boyfriend would he be if he can't let you rest? he loves you with all of his heart, but he cannot bear to see your tired self push through when you so clearly need to sleep.

he sighs, running a hand through his ginger locks as he contemplates what to do.

on one hand, he can just float up to you and tell you to stop and rest. on the other hand, he himself knows just how stubborn you are that you won't listen to his mere words alone. but maybe the fact that you're practically falling asleep can help him...

the solution he ended up following?

SCENARIO:

you could feel your study materials start to shift away from you, and the feeling of using your ability gave way to the warm sensation and the familiarity of the new ability that now surrounded you and carried you gently down. red, as fiery as fire, as passionate as love, as fierce and as intense as upon the tainted sorrow.

you knew right then that your boyfriend, the feared port mafia executive, had arrived home.

"dollface, you should really sleep," his soft voice chided. you open your eyes sleepily, enough to see chuuya nakahara and realize that he has floated you down in his arms using his ability.

"hello, chuu," you mumble sleepily, yawning. you could hear him click his tongue, but you knew he didn't mean the annoyance. if anything, he was worried. how could he be not when you can barely keep your eyes open?

"come on doll, i'm going to tuck you in bed," he states, his voice lulling you further into sleep. although you so badly wanted to just rest, you knew you had to study more.

"chuuya, i can't," you whine softly, nuzzling into him. "'m not finished..."

"finish them when you wake up, then," he replied, his voice lowering into that husky tone that never fails to grace your stomach with butterflies. "you can't even keep your eyes open, pretty girl. get some rest, alright? ya can't answer anything with lack of sleep."

you pout, knowing full well he was right, and you were just about to argue more, but oh, the way he placed you on the bed was so, so gentle, and the mattress was as soft as a cloud, and the blankets were warm...

chuuya chuckles to himself as he gazes down at your sleeping figure, unbuttoning his shirt and undressing so he can join you in bed, where he can cuddle you all he wants and inevitably wake up with you in his arms just as the sun rises in yokohama.

he placed one last kiss on your head before murmuring, "love you, dollface. sleep tight, pretty girl."

hey, congrats 100 followers !! i would love to join your celebration♡ may i request beastzai (or js adazai) with the scenario married life (1) & all in all, it was a typical tuesday (8) as the prompt ?

congrats on 100 again !!!! it’s a big number and a big achievement !!

I think Dazai is really hot too.

✧˚ · . vroom vroom, than a table for two - dazai osamu

he certainly couldn’t complain.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → icky PDA, cutesy nicknames, minor mention of sex (it’s like barely there though) and overall puppy husband dazai. also obvious mentions of suicide its DAZAI

It was Tuesday.

And also another hardworking day at the Agency. So, so tiring, according to your husband—not that he ever worked—to the point where he simply needed a break with his lovely spouse. That’s how you found yourself hand-in-hand with him during your lunch break, walking down the sidewalks of Yokohama while he excitedly spoke about a new suicide method he had heard of.

Yesterday was a homemade shrapnel bomb, today was a wrecking ball.

“Basically, you hide out in a building that’s scheduled to be demolished and eventually it collapses on you! Pretty sweet, isn’t it?”

Quirking an eyebrow, he turned to you expectantly, a cheery smile on his face. It was quick, painless enough method of suicide. Beautiful in a way, too. Sunlight would be warming his skin, the air fresh and crisp and then tons of concrete and plaster would crush his entire body in one fell swoop. No pain, just gain of access to the afterlife.

Looking back at him, you sheepishly shrugged, replying back to amuse both him and yourself. 50% of the time, his attempts were idiotic and funny, the other 50% was genuinely worrying and mildly terrifying. Today seemed to be the former, though. Thankfully.

Plus, it wasn’t like the method would even work due to some random info you found out about on the internet.

“Yeah, but I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure they check the buildings for people before they demolish them. So you’d get found out.”

Your tone was as equally playful and light as his. He wouldn’t really kill himself. You weren’t ready for a double suicide yet, sadly. His lips curled into a frown when you mentioned how it wouldn’t work, his fingers squeezing yours as he exaggerated his sigh.

“And here I was, certain of my demise! Guess that means I’ll be with you a bit longer, darling.”

Not that he really minded.

Sure, he constantly went off about suicide and how beautiful the whole concept was, but at the end of the day, he wouldn’t want to die without you at his side. He’s firmly one of those people who’d kill himself after his beloved died. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself after you died. Sure, he made Odasaku a promise, but he made you a vow.

Until death do them part.

When you died, so would he.

But no one was dying today. Just a happy day for a happy couple.

Dazai’s hand slipped out of yours, curling around your hips instead as he pulled you closer to his side. He wanted to show off his pretty partner to anyone who happened to look over at you two. Show off the person who owns his heart and soul and is his perfect reason to live for just a little bit longer. No one else deserved his gorgeous belladonna.

Just him and him only.

Only Dazai could kiss your lips at any given moment—publicly or privately—, and only he could watch you dress up for dates, brushing out your hair while he mumbled compliments into the spot where your collarbone met your neck. Only Dazai could spend hours with you at night, hearing his name from your lips while his fingers intertwined with yours at the intimate moments.

No one else could hope to do the same with you.

That’s why he soon was leading you into a bakery, the smell of pastries and bread flooding the air as he looked over the treats in the display cases. Black sesame roll cakes, all squishy looking and yummy. The cookies ranging from chocolate chip to matcha and plain vanilla. They all looked so good, but the prices weren’t quite the same.

God, when it came to money, Dazai wished he was still in the Mafia. At least he had tons of it back then.

Now, he had to be a bit more frugal with his income from the Agency. Sure, you guys weren’t dirt poor or unable to afford food and other necessities, but you couldn’t always get special snacks like this. Maybe once every week or two, if you could do so.

Nudging your shoulder, he tapped the glass, looking at you expectantly. He always did this—letting you choose what the two of you would eat. Dazai didn’t mind either. You had good taste unlike his diet of canned crab and alcohol.

“I trust my lovely spouse’s taste and that you’ll pick something good like always.”

He was such a puppy. Only for you, he thought.

“Uhmm…dunno. Pick a number, one or two.”

Dazai placed a finger on his lips, pretending to be in thought like it was the most important decision in his twenty-two years of life so far. Brows furrowed in concentration, eyes darting between you and the sweet treats while he hummed quietly. One or two? Eh. He’d go with two. There was the two of you here, after all.

“Two.”

He watched as you pointed at a slice of strawberry cheesecake, your eyes looking at him for approval. Honestly, Dazai never understood why you wanted his approval for everything. You were his equal—his life partner, nonetheless—so there was really no need for this behavior. But he couldn’t blame you. Even now, he had a bit of a commanding aura.

“Oooooh, that looks good! Knew you’d pick something tasty.”

Dazai pecked your cheek affectionately while he held your hand walking to the counter, ordering two slices of strawberry cheesecake, taking out Kunikida’s credit card that he had ‘borrowed’ from the blondie earlier at work. Compared to the thievery he had committed in his younger years, it was practically begging to be used with how his wallet was smack dab in the middle of his desk.

Carefully holding the two plates of the cheesecake slices, he led you over to a table in the corner, giving you a fork as he sat down across from you. He didn’t eat until you dug into your piece first, making sounds of contentment as sweetness coated both your taste buds. Geez, it was good. Worth the price for sure. The corner of your lips were stained with the white frosting, and so he swiped his thumb over the mess, cooing at you like a parent.

“Ah ah, ‘donna. You’re getting messy.”

Dazai liked the flush of your face. How flustered you were as you insisted you could clean yourself and that you weren’t a baby and a fully capable grown adult.

“I’m not a baby, ‘samu! I can take care of myself, ‘kay?”

Of course, of course.

“Uh-huh. And you’re not a baby. You’re my baby. My clumsy little baby who can’t eat without making a mess.”

Chewing on the rest of his slice, minutes passed, filled with conversations between the two of you about work, how Atsushi was doing—probably still traumatized and fucked over, is what you both agreed about—, plans for dinner. You tastefully ignored his comment about what he wanted for dessert. At least there weren’t any kids in the bakery.

Thankfully for everyone else in the establishment, your ‘lunch’ was finished. Walking out of the cafe, he clasped onto your hand firmly, feeling his wedding ring rub against your skin. The sounds of honking and birds chirping filled the air, but all Dazai could hear were your gentle breaths coupled with the sound of your footsteps.

Nothing really mattered besides you, in his eyes.

His everything—his reason to live.

Eternally.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts

— 𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 + 𝖉𝖆𝖟𝖆𝖎 ₊˚⊹

pairing: osamu dazai (bungou stray dogs) x fem!reader

content warning(s): non-descriptive illness, kisses, cuddling, osamu dazai is a softie, tooth-rotting fluff, sickness care, ailment treatments, pet names (love, belladonna, baby)

READ IF YOU ARE IN THE TAGLIST! if you aren't being notified when you're tagged in my fics, that usually means that your blog is either new, you have no posts, your settings hide you from search results, or you're shadow-banned. make sure to fix these so you can be properly tagged!

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“Osamu?”

You had awoken in quite a predicament. Swaddled in a clump of blankets with a cool washcloth pressed to your forehead, bubbling cups of tea and soup spinning steam into the air.

However, you partially clued in on the situation when you felt your head pounding. Your throat felt raw as a cough encroached on your breath, your skin was inflamed as sweat gathered by your temples, and your muscles ached as you attempted to stretch your arms. You were sick.

The smirking man before you was how you clued into the next part of your predicament.

“Yes, my love?”

You had no idea how long you had been swaddled up on the living room couch, but knowing Dazai, he had clued in on your sickness hours before you did. A perked brow was your sole response to him.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re sick.” He snuggled into your side, a lopsided grin on his face as he pressed kiss after kiss onto your skin with a coo. “My poor sweet baby.”

“You seem a bit too enthused about this entire thing.”

“Me?” he gasped. “I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing!”

He quieted his voice as you winced. “But who wouldn’t be?” he teased, sweet nothing whispered into your ears as he ran his nimble fingers through your hair, massaging them into your temples. “I have an excuse to miss work and spoil my sweet belladonna. Sign me up.”

“Did you somehow get me sick?” you deadpanned.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he whined, digging further into the blankets until he was snuggled up with you, bracing your body against his chest as he lazily burrowed into your neck.

“Mhm,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to his hands. “Watch out. You could get sick.”

“You’re saying that,” he smirked. “But you’re doing nothing to get away.”

“I’m sick, and you’re warm. Sue me.” You leaned into him as you toyed with his bandaged fingers.

He trailed kisses across your neck, his cool skin drawing a soft groan from your lips. “And that means I’ll have extra time to spend with my baby because she’s so sweet, and I know she’ll take of me.”

“Mm, I’ll consider it,” you mumbled, eyes heavy.

He gasped, much to your tired amusement, as tiny giggles escaped your lips between a cough. His arms were hot as they squeezed around your waist, and before long, you found yourself nuzzled into his chest on the cusp of sleep. His fingers traced your features as your eyes fluttered closed, a kiss pressed against your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

taglist: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @dazaisms

LISTENNN sadistic!dazai aftercare :(( kinda like a part two to blood sex and tears if that's alright 🥺 I wanna know if he'd still be mean and cruel or if he dotes on his doll after :)

aftercare with sadistic!dazai

dazai can't resist admiring all the marks and bruises littering your body once he's done with you. he can't help it—you just look so perfect to him, all marked-up like that. the second he's done railing the fuck out of you, he can't take his eyes off of you.

"what is it, 'samu?" you breathe, closing your eyes and leaning into his embrace. every instinct in your body urges you to get away from the man who spent the last couple hours breaking you, but you're so sore that you can't bring yourself to leave. and his chest is so warm anyways, so why bother?

you open one of your eyes and look at dazai hazily. he reaches out and traces the side of your face with his hand and leaves a line of red where his fingertips meet your bare skin. "nothing," he murmurs, a tender smile dancing along his lips. "you look so beautiful like this, darling," dazai whispers, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. he lingers long enough for you to gasp for air afterwards, to his amusement.

dazai sits up and says something about cleaning up before exiting the room, leaving you to tend to your own bruises for a couple minutes. they're starting to go a shade darker than you remember, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you make a mental note to call in sick to your work tomorrow.

a few minutes later, dazai returns, a damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. he offers you a gentle smile before sitting down and pulling you into his lap. "you did so good for me, sweetheart," he praises, kissing the top of your head. dazai pulls your chin up towards him and presses the glass of water to your slightly swollen lips, murmuring words of encouragement as you wince.

"you're so tense," dazai tsks, setting down the glass. he fishes out an ice cube and trails it down your back, grinning when you flinch from the stark chilliness. "what, can't handle the cold?" he cooes, popping the ice cube in his mouth and biting down with a distinct crunch.

he starts rubbing the damp towel over your skin, cleansing you of the droplets of blood scattered across your figure. "so," dazai continues, trailing his fingers over your skin, "how was it?"

"h-huh?" you mumble, caught off-guard by the seemingly simple question. dazai chuckles and draws a star with his finger around the bruise on your shoulder, pressing a kiss to it afterwards.

"i mean, how are you feeling?" he elaborates, a lazy smile dancing across his lips.

"oh, i'm ... okay," you breathe, nodding along to his words.

"that's it? just okay?" he inquires, and you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your head. "aw, looks like we're gonna have to go for another round if you're just okay, sweetheart."

"wait, i—"

"don't bother, i was looking for a reason to go for one more round. c'mon, spread those pretty legs for me, baby. you can do it ..."

when katsuki’s copying your snaps so you pull a move

you sat, scattered across your bedroom with your friends. you decided you should all have a sleepover because you hadn’t hung out as a group in a while. as you all continued to giggle and watch a show on your television screen, your phone lit up.

a notification from katsuki, who you were sending photos of yourself to every couple of minutes. of course, he copied them with ease and without a care in the world.

but suddenly, your eyes widened, and you grinned like the cheshire cat. you had an amazing idea. you held the camera not too far away, and flexed your arm, showing your muscle. you giggled, would katsuki really fall for the trick and send you the same pose back?

less than a minute later, he opened the photo, but tsuyu sat next to you and leaned against her arms behind her. she asked, “are you feeling okay? you don’t appear to be interacting with the group as much.”

you nodded, “i’m okay, i’m just trying to get my boyfriend to do something,” then smiled at her clueless face. she was adorable.

you gained another notification from katsuki, so you clicked it and opened the photo.

jesus christ. his muscles were huge.

his shirt was off, and his bicep had a scar on it, he was looking into the camera with a glint in his red eyes and a smirk on his face. you blushed, and your lips stretched into a smile. you saved the photo to your camera roll, and he immediately texted you a message.

‘glad you think i look that good’

you rolled your eyes and smiled, and suddenly you heard a knock on your dorm door. the room went silent, and mina picked up the remote control and paused the show you were watching. everyone looked at each other, then at you. after a couple of seconds, there was another knock at the door and a sigh. you stood up and timidly walked over to the door, then opened it.

katsuki stood there in a black tank top with a white skull in the middle and sweatpants. his muscles still stood out even in his top and pants, and he smirked down at you, then raised his eyebrows.

you looked back at the quiet room and smiled, “don’t worry guys, it’s just katsuki!”

“y/n, he probably came here to be with you. you can let him in, you don’t have to ask us.” you smiled at kyoka’s words, then you squealed and jumped.

your boyfriend didn’t say many words, but you latched onto his bicep and tugged him into your room. he locked the bedroom door then you pushed him onto the bed to watch the show with the girls. you sat crisscrossed with him and switched positions frequently until you were comfortable.

once he laid down on your bed, you immediately followed after him and slung your leg and arm over his body. he groaned and gently pushed your head away when you tried to nuzzle into him, but you whined.

he grinned, knowing he was just trying to irritate you. he then placed his large hand on the back of your head and pulled it back closer to his body, and once everyone was looking away, he kissed your hair.

katsuki would never admit it, but he just wanted to lie down with you. didn’t care much to talk or show you anything, but wanted to be in your presence. you would always be the one to bring his mood up.

words weren’t needed to express his love for you, and vice versa.

but a couple of minutes later, the two of you were passed out, snuggled together in your bed. ochaco stood up from the bean bag and leaned over.

she whispered, “aww, look at those two! they’re adorable, i’ve never seen bakugo like this!” she placed her hands together and spinned.

but mina had a different idea.

“yeah, they’re cute, but eijiro can use this as blackmail, and so can i,” she joked. she took her phone out and made sure the flash was off, before smiling with malicious intent and looking at all the girls. they giggled, and she finally took the photo.

she sent it to eijiro, who texted back, ‘i always knew he was down bad for her’

hope u guys liked this one! tysm for so many likes on my first katsuki post

SOMETHING I WAIT FOR . . . dazai has a close call. he barely makes it to your apartment but you’re there just in time, in more ways than one.

ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, blood and injuries, mentions of drowning / suicidal ideation from dazai, a little suggestive in some parts, 3.6k w.c.

p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ if you catch the its okay to not be okay references, ily <3 !!

EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING SERIES MASTERLIST

dazai hates pain.

if the idiot who shot him would’ve aimed just a little bit higher, it might've been a fatal wound. instead, all he did was graze his shoulder. it wasn’t enough to cause serious harm, but just enough to make him bleed in miseryー just his luck.

the man must’ve been dead by now, taken care of by one of his subordinates. he didn’t stay long enough to find out, slipping from the scene before anyone could try to force him into the mafia’s infirmary. he knows your apartment is close. 

he’s nearing the point of being injured where the pain fades and melts into pure exhaustion. he hates the way his blood feels against his hands, and he uses it to ground himself. it’s already soaked through his shirt, wet and warm as it seeps between his fingers and drips down his arm, absorbing into the bandages around his wrist. his already obscured vision is fading, white stars glistening from beneath the edge of his lashes, but he keeps his eyes trained ahead on your building. he swears you used to only have one apartment door, his vision doubling and growing hazy. 

just a few more steps. that’s all he needs to make it to you.

he huffs as his hand slips from your doorknob, sliding off the metal from his weak grip. he falls forward, blood smearing against the doorframe where his palm flattens as he tries to steady himself, pressing his forehead against your door with a quiet thump. you have to be home right now. right? please be home right now.

as soon as you open your door from the other side of your apartment, he collapses, landing against your chest. he curls against you, inhaling the scent of your skin with the desperation of a man who’d just been saved from drowning. 

“dazai?” you stumble backward, but he doesn’t weigh nearly enough to make you fall. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he grips your shirt in his hands, trying to press himself impossibly closer to you. he can feel the moment you realize he’s bleeding, your chest stalling mid-inhale. “oh my god, dazai.”

his jacket slips from his shoulders, falling to the floor limply as you carry him inside, kicking the door closed with your foot. his feet drag against your carpet as he tries to walk, but he’d rather use his waning strength to snuggle closer into your side than keep his balance. even with your body supporting his own, he plops unceremoniously onto your couch.  

“it’s okay,” he shivers when you start to unbutton his shirt, pulling back the bloody, frayed fabric stuck to his skin. he can’t tell if you’re talking to him or yourself. “you’re okay.”

his bangs are damp, yokohama’s humidity and his own sweat gluing them to his forehead. you push them back, stroking your thumb along the edge of his bandage over his cheek tenderly.

“are you hurt anywhere else?”

he tilts his head to press his face into your palm and smiles at you. you’re so pretty when you frown at him like this.

“i’ll be right back,” you squish his cheeks between your hands, making his lips pucker. “don’t try to move.”

he has to stop himself from reaching back out for you when you let him go. he squeezes the fabric of his trousers instead, watching you disappear past the couch’s limited view. he wants to pull you on top of him and beg you to ignore the blood leaking out of his body, to just wrap your arms around him and hold him until there’s nothing left between the two of you. it still wouldn’t be close enough; if he had the choice, he would shrink down and make a home inside your chest.

he tries his best to relax into the cushions beneath him. he’d much rather be in your bed than on your couch, but it was still yours, and that made it enough for him to want to sink into it until it absorbed him whole. your apartment was nothing like his hollow shipping container, the metal walls suffocating in the summer heat.

he could’ve dragged himself there instead. maybe he would’ve finally died from blood loss if he was lucky. that’s what he wants. really.

so then why did he drag himself here? because you felt safe?

dazai came to a realization a few days ago, one more painful than the wound in his shoulder, or the fact he has a mission with chuuya a few days from now. ever since it planted its dirty roots in his brain, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. 

it grew deeper every time his chest tightened around you, or his heart fluttered at the sight of your smile, or his stomach churned in jealousy when someone else touched you. 

this, his mind taunted him, is what people say love feels like. worst of all, when he whined to odasaku and ango about how annoying you were, they didn’t stop talking about his “crush” for the rest of the night. 

his body protests as he sits up, vision swimming as the walls of your living room tilt. he tries to blink it away when he hears you sigh as you come back from down the hallway. he makes his one visible eye big and pouts his lips when he looks at you.

“dazai,” the medical supplies you always keep on hand are cradled in your arms as you walk back toward him. “i told you not to move.”

“you took too long,” he whines. “i’m dying, you know.”

“you wish.” you guide him back down gently, your hands leaving tingles beneath his skin in their wake. he watches you kneel beside him, organizing the little bottles and boxes on your coffee table. you press down on one of the white lids with the heel of your palm, twisting it and knocking it upside down. you hand him one of the pills that fall out, and he swallows it dry.

you open another one of your bottles, and the familiar, sterile smell could be nothing other than saline. it’s cold against his skin, but your touch is what makes him shiver and his hair raise. you squeeze his leg softly, running your fingers against his thigh. it ignites something warm in his stomach, but it fades to white pain when the liquid absorbs into his wound. he jolts, and you murmur an apology, squeezing his thigh a little tighter. you’re trying to distract him, and it works pathetically well.

when you get closer to clean the drying blood off his skin, he can’t help but let his eyes fall to your lips, slightly parted in concentration. you’re close enough for him to kiss, and against the ache of his shoulder, all he can think about is how you might taste.

he wonders how soft you’d feel if he traced the shape of your lips with his tongue. he imagines the sweet sting of you pulling his hair as he memorizes every inch of you he can, taking everything you give him and more. it’d be different from the other people he’s kissed, he knows it; using his mouth to get information out of theirs did nothingー if anything, he felt more numb when it was over. 

he can see a familiar box from the corner of his eye: it’s the brand of bandages he always uses, the only kind that doesn’t irritate his scarred, sensitive skin. he watches your fingers as they delicately pull the beginning of the roll, imagining the feeling of you wrapped around his bare body instead of the cotton he adorns himself with. 

you turn him on his side to wrap the bandages around his shoulder and under his arm. once the ends are tied, nice and snug around him, you sit back on your heels.

“can i have your hand?” 

he gives you both, trying to hide the way they tremble. you grab the one covered in blood tenderly as you begin to clean it off. 

“i guess you weren’t lucky enough to die this time,” you smile teasingly, but he knows it isn’t real. it doesn’t look right on your face, like a mask that’s too big. he can see the worry you try to hide, clouding your eyes like murky water. he hates it. “sorry.”

“i never get what i want,” he sighs. “i think i’m cursed. do you have something to cure that in one of those little bottles too?”

“i don’t know if you’ll ever die, even when you become an old man,” if, not when, he wants to correct, but holds his tongue. “you’re like a cockroach.”

“yeah?” he reaches up to poke your face with his bloody fingers as you try to hold him still. “you’re like a little kid.”

“you’re more like a kid than i am.”

“nuh uh.”

“yeah,” you giggle, catching his hand back in your own. you wipe down each of his fingers, gently scrubbing the spaces in between. “you are.”

when he speaks again, he’s surprised by how quiet his voice is. he almost hopes you don’t hear him. “how?”

“because,” your voice softens, holding his now clean hand. you trace over one of the lines on his palm with your thumb.  “you want to be loved.”

he feels like he can’t breathe as he realizes that for once, he doesn’t have the upper hand. all of his walls he’s so carefully built, it’s like they’re made of glass around you. the possibility that you see him more clearly than he sees you terrifies him. 

the painkillers are starting to kick in, drowsiness creeping up on him and making his eyelids heavy as he melts against the cushions despite his pounding heart. when was the last time he slept? he can’t remember.your fingers are gentle as they brush his bangs back. your touch makes his eyes fall completely closed before he feels something soft and warm presses against his forehead. he hears a whisper of his name, a quiet sweet dreams, and then he’s asleep.

it only really feels like he blinked. when he opens his eyes again, it’s dark. the light from your kitchen leaks through the hall, permeating the living room in a soft glow. he wiggles his toes, feeling the soft blanket you draped over his legs while he slept.

he gets up slowly, creeping off the couch and across your floor. he peeks past the kitchen doorway, grinning when he sees your back is facing him. you’re halfway bent over the counter with your chin resting in your hand, staring absently at the tea kettle on the stove, waiting for it to boil.

he keeps his steps quiet, walking on the tips of his toes. he sinks his teeth into his lip to bite back his smile as he leans closer, taking advantage of the fact you’re completely zoned out.

“boo.”

you flinch, hand closing around a butterknife on your counter, still smeared with jelly from a late-night snack. you turn sharply, pointing the dull blade in his direction. he grabs your wrist before it grazes him, smiling innocently.

“dazai,” he thinks his name sounds so pretty when you sigh it out like that. you drop the knife back onto your counter. “should you even be standing right now? go lay back down. i can bring you something to eat.”

the thought of you taking care of him like this ignites that warm feeling in his stomach again. an image of you as his personal nurse forms in his mind, and his insides flip at the thought. he wonders if being an executive would give him enough leniency to put you in a little white dress; surely there was one lying around somewhere at headquarters.

“what, did you hit your head too?” he whines when you poke his forehead, hard. “are you feeling better?”

he pouts at you, gaze drifting over your shoulder to a bottle of sake on the counter. it definitely wasn’t there the last time he was here.

“oh〜” he perks, holding the bottle up by its neck, eyes sparkling. “this is fancy! where did you get this from, hm? some secret date i don’t know about?”

“ane-san,” your eyes narrow as he flicks the stove off, breaking the seal on the bottle excitedly. “it was a gift from her after we finished that raid in osaka.”

he sniffs it, then takes a big sip straight from the bottle. it leaves a pleasant sting along the inside of his throat as he swallows.

he sits himself down on your kitchen tiles, pressing his back against the cabinets, cradling the sake in his arms. there’s something angelic about the way your kitchen light haloes around you as he looks up at you from the floor. 

he holds the bottle up, sloshing the liquid as he wiggles it back and forth. he pulls it out of your reach each time you try to grab it until you have no choice but to sit next to him, stretching across his lap to take it from him. you follow his lead and take a small sip from the mouth of the bottle, sighing as you sag backward. 

“what happened this time, anyway?” you tilt your head toward him lazily, gaze dipping down to his bandaged shoulder. 

“someone had bad aim,” he sighs, holding a finger up to his temple. “missed my head. unlucky, right?”

you take a bigger, longer sip.

“i don’t like when you get hurt, you know.”

he’s relieved your head is on his bandaged blindside; he doesn’t know if he wants to see the look on your face right now. he takes the bottle from you, taking a longer sip of his own.

“do you remember when we used to go to the beach?” he can hear the smile in your voice, and it makes his own rise on his cheeks. the two of you would always go after missions, bodies bruised and hair knotted. it was always early enough to watch the sunrise from the shore, eating a breakfast of shared instant ramen and candy stolen from the konbini down the street. 

he can only ignore the way the edge of the counter presses into the back of his head for so long, leaning his cheek against your hair and listening to you breathe. he can tell you’re getting tipsy when you start to cling to him, clumsily crawling into his lap. you insist on being the one to rebutton his shirt, swatting his hands away when he tries to do it himself. 

“can we go now?” the curl of your lip hits him like an arrow through his heart. “to the beach? please?”

you’re so close again, looking up at him so prettily through your lashes. your hands warm as they rest above his heart, like you could go right through him and steal it for yourself, and he knows he could never possibly say no. 

you pick his coat up off the floor before you leave, draping it over his shoulders. you tug it a little tighter around him, nodding to yourself in satisfaction before you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers and tugging him out the door.

the nighttime air is warm and sticky, but it gets cooler the closer you get to the shore. he keeps your smaller body close to his, guard raising as you approach the edge of port mafia territory. 

the sand sinks beneath his feet with every step, and he pulls his shoes off by the heel. the waves lap calmly, dancing back and forth with no audience to watch as they tease the shore. he breathes in deep, feeling his lungs expand, inviting the salt and sand inside.

you drop limply onto the ground, laying your head on his shoulder when he sits next to you. it’s quiet, only the distant sound of traffic and the soft splashing of water.

“i wish it could be like this all the time.” you sigh. there’s a determined glint in your sleepy eyes when you look up at him. “let’s run away.”

he smiles, tilting his head toward you until your noses are close enough to brush. “and just where would you take me?”

“i don’t know,” you mumble. “i don’t care as long as i’m with you.”

he always thought he was born with an empty cavity in place of where his heart should be, but around you, it felt so full he could explode. he thinks if he tried to say anything right now, something icky, like the pile of seaweed he can see rotting by the water, would come out of his mouth instead.

a particularly big wave draws your attention away from him, and he frowns when you look away. it only deepens when you stand up and leave him, walking towards the ocean. he watches as you stumble down the wet sand, squealing when the water splashes against your feet. you don’t stop walking until the water is deep enough to cover your shins.

he follows you to the water, hopping on each foot over the big rocks. he’s careful not to slip, crouching on the furthest one out to keep a closer eye on you. he keeps his weight on his ankles, spreading his knees and resting his arms between them. he feels drops of salt water hit his face as the waves crash against the sea stacks, gently blowing the fabric of his jacket. 

you turn back and smile at him, holding your hand out. the moon is large and eternal behind you, taking up nearly all the space in the sky and casting a pale blue glow over the dark water. it reflects onto you, illuminating your body in soft light, and he swears he’s never seen someone look so beautiful. you open and close your hand impatiently when he doesn’t move.

“what are you doing over there?” you tilt your head. “c’mere. it’s warm.”

he doesn’t bother to pull up his pants as he slips into the ocean, letting the waves move the fabric as they ebb and flow. he looks down at himself; he nearly blends in with the water, looking black in the night. he almost thinks he’ll dissolve into it like ink and wash away into the sea. 

you beam at him as the water laps at your knees. he wiggles his toes into the wet sand and waits to feel the unbridled joy that standing here seems to cause. all he feels is goop between his toes, and he sighs in disappointment. he wants to understand why something like this made you so happy. he wants to feel it too.

“isn’t it nice?” you smile up at him, and he wishes he could bottle it up and keep it for himself. that smile was just for him.

don’t.

he leans closer. he can’t help it; there’s alcohol still warm in his veins, and you’re magnetic.

don’t.

even closer, until he can feel your soft exhale against his face, eyes big. he always thought you were the prettiest up close.

you’ll lose her once you have her.

he freezes. he doesn’t have time to completely change his mind and forget this little slip-up ever happened before you close the gap, pressing your lips against his. you’re just as soft as he imagined, gentle even when you kiss him, like he was something worth handling with care.

you pull back all too soon, looking down at where his legs disappear beneath the water.

“sorry,” you mumble, and the watery way your voice comes out makes something ache deep inside of him. “i…i don’t know why i did that.”

oh.

he didn’t kiss you back.

he didn’t move, he didn’t even breathe. he almost wants to laugh; you really like him too. you, with your stupid smile, making his heart flutter and his stomach hurt when it’s directed toward him. you, letting him sleep in your bed when he breaks into your apartment, holding his blood-soaked hands and letting him get close, despite knowing what he was. you were so, so stupid. 

he cups your cheeks with trembling fingers, bringing you back to his mouth. this could be the biggest mistake of his life; the fact he wants you could be your death sentence, but he’s never wanted anything else so badly before in his entire, sad life. 

he thought it’d be weird to touch you like this, but it only feels right. when his hands hover over your waist, you press them into your skin, and he can’t help but think they fit perfectly there, like you were made to be held by him.

you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against his nape, and his knees nearly buckle. he thinks if they did, if he fell into the sand right now and washed out to sea, he’d be content, but you’d never let that happen. he wouldn't even be mad if you resuscitated him; nothing would be better than your lips breathing life back into him. he wonders how mad you’d be if he tried to pull that as an excuse to have another kiss.

he kisses your forehead, your nose, and then tilts your chin up to kiss you properly agai , swallowing the giggle you press against his lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get enough of you now that he’s had a taste.

“is this really okay?” you’re looking up at him with eyes bigger than the moon, glittering just as bright.

“yeah,” he can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. “it’s okay.”

BSD MASTERLIST

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