#bsd fic

ꢾ꣒ ¡ 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ : ‎ ‎ 3rd. broadcast ❞

pairing 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐧. & fem!reader !

c.w ⠀ⵗ⠀ mdni !! explicit sexual content , porn with little plot , cunnilingus , face sitting , free use , soft dom!chuuya , service top , overstimulation , dirty talk , praise kink , coming untouched , ribbons , overstimulation , multiple orgasms.

ᰋ. ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ 𝐬𝒖𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ : ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ᰍ chuuya doesn’t know what to give you for Christmas, so he takes dazai’s teasing advice and decides to wrap himself up in ribbons to be your pressent.

Dazai is a lazy slacker. And annoying at that. News, right?

“Would you rather be deaf or blind?” Dazai asks, laying upside down on the office couch. His long legs are resting against the wall, his hair dangling down in a soft fluff, a lollipop between his fingers.

“Deaf” The deadpan can be heard through your flat tone, fingers tapping away at your keyboard at an efficient speed – quick and loud to drown out Dazais voice.

“Deaf so I don’t have to hear your bullshit” Dazais smile is clear as day in his teasing, pleased lilt to his tone, prompting you to send a tiny glare his way over your work computer.

He brings the blue lollipop to his lips again, smile widening behind it. “You love seeing me, that’s why” He closes his eyes, looking like he’s in pure bliss. “I get it”

You ignore him, your keyboard tapping growing harsher and louder.

“Do you think whales get cold?” He tries again, and you can see him from the corner of your eyes. Still smiling.

He doubles down once he gets no response out of you. “Don’t you think its weird that clouds float when they are evaporated water? Shouldn’t they fall down if they hold water?” He tries again

Sighing, you drop your head into your hands, massaging at your sore temple. “Why do you use this type of mental abuse on me, Dazai”

He sticks his blue stained tongue out for you, grinning widely with his forehead in full view.

Dazai is like a sleep paralysis you cant shake off or wake up from.

a/n: quick something i wrote before bed. writing is consuming all of the time from my other hobbies lately. im not entierly unhappy about that, just a little >-<

Osamu Dazai x Reader

After you were gone.

Dazai sat at the small desk in his room. It was around eight pm, the streets of Yokohama were full of people eager to go back home to their families and loved ones. The stresses of a long workday began to ebb as traffic drifted through the roads. He however sat alone, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

This was around the time you would have rung at his doorbell, a bag of homemade dinner hooked around your arm as you called out to him in your sweet voice. Then he'd answer, even on the worst days because you looked forward to this just as much as he did.

Then sitting on the table, he'd take out a bottle of liquor, didn't matter what, somedays Sake, and when he decided to be fancy it would be Japanese whiskey. Then you'd talk about your day, he mostly listened. You talked a lot, he just liked hearing your voice.

Today however the doorbell stayed quiet. No home-made dinner, no you. He hoped if he took out his fanciest bottle then you'd show up. He could lure you in with a flirty smile. But he wasn't capable of raising the dead was he?

He laughed bitterly to himself, taking a sip of his whiskey. It made its way through his throat in a familiar burn. This was simply the price of letting someone inside he should have seen it coming. He could now go back to being his usual self, keeping everyone at just a little distance from his heart.

ft. dazai osamu ― content; you and dazai have been co workers for a while now and the usual flirty and warm nature seems to shift into icy cold ignorance one random day, leaving you ponder on what could have went wrong and leaving a wild dazai who cannot ever deal with his emotions in normal ways. ― warnings ; fem reader , slightly suggestive

it really isn't easy to admit to yourself that you may actually enjoy someone's company more than you would like to admit.

coming from a world where solitude was a well known friend and interactions were fleeting, it scared dazai shitless to even dare and consider the possibility that he may feel a lot more towards you than your average co workers setting.

he cannot comprehend when this happened or when he started seeing you as more and that frustrated him because he was always the one in control and now he could not even control his own feelings.

was it when he subtly noticed your coffee order and seemed to always get it right when bringing it to you ? was it when he memorised your schedule and when he might catch you at different places ?

was it when he actually sat down and did his work upon your scolding ? maybe it was the countless nights he woke up with sweat sticking to his skin, memories of a lithe body under him and a terrible need of a cold shower, or maybe two.

but no, these things happen and maybe they are all sick coincidences, truly sick I mean not even the devil could put these thoughts in his head but he felt like he was suffocating.

yet when the coffee runs became a routine, and he eagerly waited to find you in your usual spots, or when he actually did his work before yours or kunikida's scolding, hell that lithe form in his countless dreams seemed to have a much clearer face now and damn him if that wasn't you.

so he was fucked. simply putting it, dazai was screwed.

he never did feelings, it was the most foreign concept of it all, two people aching after each other in ways that were not just lust seemed to baffle him. but then why did his chest hurt and his gaze wavered when he chose to push you away and cut you out of his life.

why did it hurt so much to see you smile around other members with that same sweet smile which seemed so solely his. why did his throat feel like it was closing up every time he looked down at your cheerful face as you greeted him so sweetly and he simply turned away from you.

he felt like the worst human to ever exist watching that smile of yours drop and bottom lip quiver in worry and he knew you were not okay but he wasn't even fine himself, he was the furthest thing away from fine.

you were like a tidal wave and dazai was engulfed by you at every step. being in the same room with you was hell, sharing a meeting with you was awful, watching the coffee he bought for you for the 3rd time this week while telling himself he wont getting cold on his desk again and again.

but then when fate seemed to bring you both locked in that stupid utility closet which he swore he would fix, fingers digging in his palm as he pushes at the door and undoubtedly, without even needing to confirm it, big orbs and a frown looking up at him from behind.

"you would rather talk to the fucking wall than acknowledge i am in the same room wouldn't you..?" you croak out sharply.

"i have no idea what you're talking about" the hollow voice ringed through the tight space, almost unfamiliar to you now.

while you unconsciously found yourself stepping closer to him, you can see his frame freeze.

"nothing my ass, you act like i have the plague and that...that is low even for you."

"look- [name] just mind your own business, think of ways to get out of here and continue your life." he says, still refusing to face you.

dazai could feel himself crumbling, your words chipping away at the wall around his heart once more - just why did you have to be so insistent. it was maddening.

"look me in the eyes and say that-" your voice weavers out, shakier than you intended. "face me and tell me that you want nothing to do with me, and i swear i will leave you alone." he knew that the last thing he wanted right now was face you, see the huge disappointment in your eyes or your trembling chin as you fought for your own sense of justice. he did not know if that sight would make him want to cower in shame or press himself against you and capture your soft lips.

"i cannot look at you." he spits out sharply.

"you owe me that much, hell you owe it to yourself to not be a fucking monster. no one acts the way we do- or well did and then wakes up one morning and ices the other out." "that's cruel dazai." you whisper, the last part mostly to yourself than to him.

you were the sweetest thing ever, the most constant in his life and he could feel his knees growing weak as you continued to push the matter.

"[name] i don't trust myself around you right now, i am on the brink of doing shit we would both regret so much, so much that you would hate me for it." he rambles on as he finally turns around and looks at you.

"you would hate me if you knew how much i want to wrap you in my arms and never let you go, or how hard it is to not kiss you senseless every time i see you."

"dazai-" you start but he cuts you off far too quickly.

"being around you is suffocating, you make me lose sense of my being and you make me want to tie you to my bedpost and never ever let you go again and damn me if i don't fucking lov-" and he mentally facepalmed himself as his lips pressed into a thin line and he took a shaky step behind, colliding with the door behind him.

yet his breath got cut short as your hands grasped at his collar and he finds his face inches away from yours, noses brushing against each other as he melts into your touch.

"bella" he whispers out as your lips collide with his and your fingers grasp at his back in franticness. bundles of flesh roaming around each other as dazai's arms finally found your chin and god he swears his airways might close just now.

sharply interrupted by the door behind his back suddenly shifting, he groans into the kiss and stumbles behind, ears perking up at the familiar voice.

"i told you these two were slacking again." kunikida's voice echoes in the small space as you both cannot help but chuckle and step into the hallway.

author's note : WAAAAHH HE IS!!! my baby and love HEHEH tysm for requesting. he does not get enough love

pm!dazai who wakes up at before you. he always switches on the bulb, the dim one that doesn't wake you up. in the minimal light available, he is greeted by the sight your sleeping body rising and falling with every breath. you were a heavy sleeper. you'd tried to get him to rest too but to no avail. he had long forgotten what that was, there was no more room for such a thing anymore among all the violence and chaos. granted, this was exactly hat he'd asked for but regardless, he couldn't help but envy the peace you seemed to have. especially as you drifted into some place he knew he couldn't reach, especially not with how he was. all he does instead is tuck a strand of your soft hair behind your ear and watch you with held breath as you stir only for a moment before stilling again. he sighs in relief. he hadn't woken you up just yet.

He wakes to a hand in his hair, twirling the overgrown ends between nimble fingers. He aches. He supposes that is what he deserves for sleeping upright. Stretching slightly, blinking to clear his eyes, he notes that Atsushi is watching him intently, eyes glazed over. Heat immediately rushes to his face, stomach curling. “Jinko.” “You stayed,” Atsushi breathes with a smile. “I thought you might.”

Sorry if it’s bad, it is my first time requesting a fic ever 😓

ƒavorite ρlayer

⌯⌲ omg, your first request ever? & you’re asking little ol’ me? listen i’ll be so up front idk anything about soccer (pls i’m american) but i know a thing or two about jealous!dazai. i also picked whoever i thought was the cutest off the japanese team & it just so happens to be one of their goalies so... (╥ᴗ╥) i made everything up btw; i didn’t watch it so idk how it actually went.

Dazai has been giving you severe and pouting side-eye the entire match; what makes it worse is you haven’t noticed. You’re too busy watching the game, clapping and cheering and all around very into it. However, he had caught on that you only knew one name, and it was the only name you had been cheering for over the course of forty-five minutes.

“You do realize he’s the goalkeeper, right?” He grumbles to you eventually, absolutely not taking it anymore that you haven’t even so much as paid him an ounce of attention since the game turned started. “He isn’t even running around on the field!” You wave him off, the other hand stuffing your mouth with a huge handful of popcorn.

“He has blocked every single shot! He’s clearly the best goalie,” you argue through your full mouth, staring intently at the screen when it pans to your favorite member, Tomoki Hayakawa, and your feet kick involuntarily upon seeing him. And that causes Dazai’s eyes to narrow. His cheek is propped up on his fist, huddled up into the corner of the couch, and he’s visibly pouting more after that. You start nudging and lightly hitting his bandaged arm, pointing at the screen as the ball is blocked by the goalkeeper. “Look, look! That felt near impossible and he managed to stop it!” You talk about it as if he is your dearest friend that you couldn’t be more proud of, and your actual friend sitting beside you rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, wow, he’s so amazing,” the sarcasm that you can’t pick up on is dripping like venom in his words, and his hand comes over aggressively to grab a handful of popcorn to munch on. “He did his job and prevented a ball from getting in the net. Anyone can do that.” He scoffs lightly, tossing a few pieces in his mouth, and you sigh — a bit too dreamily for his liking.

“I’m so glad he’s out there,” you go on, watching as the ball gets dribbled and drilled around, getting comfier in your seat since it looks like it’s going to be a long match. “With his expertise, it’ll extend the game and hopefully give us a chance to win.” At this point, the Netherlands has scored once already, but that was because a different goalkeeper was on the field and it just barely slipped past him.

He ignores you then, getting increasingly more annoyed as time goes from how enthusiastic you are about this guy, a mere “goalkeeper”, at that. Anyone can block a ball, even I could do that. He sits in silence the rest of the match, no longer cheering with you, no longer much involved, and he just sits there… brooding.

The game ends with a tie, two to two, and you would say that’s satisfying enough, considering there have been a handful of losses thrown in the mix already. You still haven’t really paid much mind to Dazai, beginning to get up and clean your small mess, while he traces along the arm of the couch, the cushion soft, and he’s lost in thought.

“So, that’s your type, or whatever?” He asks you, the faint hint of his irritation twisting into his words. “Goalkeepers?” The question doesn’t strike you nearly as much as your answer does him.

“I tend to like more athletic guys, yeah,” you shrug, washing the bowl, and his lip pokes out, shielded by his hand. “He’s also super tall, like, I dunno, 188 centimeters.” You go on, and Dazai feels as though he just got shot through the chest, head falling back dramatically as he stares at the ceiling. Before, he was the one you always referred to as “super tall”, taking pride in the fact he was your reference. Now you’re gushing over some goalie you’ve never met, talking about him being “athletic” and taller than Dazai. His ego’s beyond bruised, it’s dead and buried. “Oh, and he’s a Pisces. I think we’re compatible per to the stars.” His body starts sinking and slipping down on the cushion, every new thing he learns against his will and breaking his little black heart into a million pieces.

“I thought you said astrology was dumb?” He attempts.

“No, Dazai, that was you,” you remind, clearing the kitchen counter of crumbs and empty bags, padding back to the living room to pick up scattered empty bottles and cans, finally noticing he is slumped in a pathetic heap on your sofa, and your brow raises. His gaze flickers in your direct before pointedly looking elsewhere, his arms coming up to fold across his chest. “Is there any issue?”

“Oh, nothing,” he sighs, it pitching at the end, and taps his finger on his arm. “Just finding out that my closest friend is a bit superficial, that’s all.” Your head cocks at that, blinking at him a few times, clearly confused because you don’t recall ever coming off as anything but superficial. You’d actually be the first to admit your eyes decide everything for you at first glance, and you definitely judge a book by its cover before even considering reading it. For example, when you first met Dazai, you couldn’t stop staring at him because of how cute you thought he was, and you may or may not ogle him from time to time when he comes over to hang out and he’s still dripping a little sweat from working. And you may or may not suggest he takes a shower so you can see him walking out shirtless and a towel, because he has no shame since he’s known you for so long.

“Does it bother you that I like the goalie?” You ask, pointing vaguely to the television that is airing the highlights, some of which have your star player plastered on the screen. A form of mockery, really, to your friend that lightly sneers at his image.

“Please,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes again as he forces himself up into a proper upright position, now poised and crossing his leg over the other. “Why would I care what interest you have in men?” You stare at him for a brief moment before slowly nodding, tossing everything in the trash can, then going to your fridge to pull out another bottle of his preferred beer to give him as a small peace offering. That he hesitantly and begrudgingly accepts.

“Probably the same reason I care what interest you have in your romantic endeavors,” you tell him, nonchalant, no real pushback really behind your tone. He gives you a look, a strange one, more skeptical than taken aback as he twists the cap off and places it in your awaiting hand.

“You don’t have an interest,” he states, taking a sip of his drink while maintaining eye contact with you, and you genuinely can’t stop the smile peeking through at his very wrong accusation.

“When did I ever say that?” You lightly chuck the cap at his face, hitting him square in the forehead, and he stares at you wide eyed, appalled, and confused. “I’m taking a shower. Maybe I’ll imagine Mr. Tomoki Hayakawa is in there with me since I have…” Your eyes stare at him, point blank, hoping he gets the message, and he doesn’t. He continues looking at you like he’s dumb. “No one else to think about.” You sigh, dramatically, then give him a fake pout before turning on your heel toward your bathroom. Who would you even think about anyway?

Dazai sits with that, watching after you, the sound of sports casters talking about the game fading in the background, and he doesn’t necessarily mean to say this to you, what echoes in the hallway and vibrates around in your skull: “You want me to help you in there or something?” Your steps falter before peering over your shoulder at him, eyes playfully narrowed, and then you lightly shake your head before shutting the door. “It was just a suggestion!” Stupid boy.

i did look up some stuff to be a little more accurate, like the scores, but i hope this was okay. i genuinely know zilch about the world cup.

- ghxst

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