Curate, connect, and discover
Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs
Ship: Dazai x Reader
Prompt: “'Sorry for showing up like this.’ You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. ‘Come in.’”
!Gender of reader is not specified!
A/N: I don't believe there are any major triggers in this part, correct me if I'm wrong though. Also, I feel like Dazai was very ooc which is partially why this took so long, of course, the main problem was writer's block
Word count is about 2.7k
Part 1 of And if you can forgive, love will truly live
Tag: @foulwaterss
Warmth.
You pulled the person in your arms further into your chest.
...
Person?
You opened your eyes, blinking rapidly as the morning sun pierced your eyes through the open curtain.
As your vision adjusted you could make out a head of soft, fluffy brown curls tucked against your chest.
The memories of the previous day, or rather night, seeing as you slept through most of the day, came flooding through your brain.
Right.
Dazai knocked on your door last night.
Soaked to the bone from having likely walked to your place with no umbrella despite the fact it had been raining the entire day.
And then... you let him in.
A dangerous decision both for him with his new job and for you with the Mafia.
But he listened to you, took a shower, ate most of his food, and he even let himself be vulnerable with you, choosing to forgo his bandages because he trusts you.
You looked down at him as you brought your hand up to card your fingers through his hair, a smile pulling at your lips as he nuzzled into your chest.
He reminded you of a cat.
Cute.
More like a black cat with all the bad things people thought of him.
Either way, he was cute.
Your smile turned bitter as the thought crossed your mind.
Even after four years, you still had feelings for him.
You sighed softly, letting your face relax, enjoying the soft moment before Dazai awakes and you have to talk about everything.
You had almost soothed yourself back to sleep with the methodic movement of your fingers through Dazai's hair when Dazai finally began to stir awake.
You watched as Dazai's eyes fluttered open slightly before he whined as the light hit his eyes, shoving his face half into your chest and half into the sheets.
"Evil... leaving the curtains open just to blind me..." His voice was pitched with a whine yet rough from having just woken up.
You chuckled softly.
"Eh, the sun blinded me too when I woke up." You spoke up, your voice soft in the morning. "I would've gotten up but someone was busy nuzzling into me." You teased softly as you began running your finger through his hair once more.
"What time is it?" He spoke softly into your chest.
"I don't know..." You yawned softly. "I was about to fall asleep again before you woke up."
Even without seeing his face, you could tell a smirk pulled at his lips. Seems like you still knew him pretty well.
"Were you watching me sleep? How perverted~." He teased softly.
"Oh shut it. I wasn't thinking anything like that. Of course, you know that though."
Dazai hummed softly pretending to be unaware.
"Oh~? Then what were you thinking, hm?"
You stopped carding your fingers through his hair to reach down and lift his chin up, forcing him to look at you in the eyes.
"Thinking about how much like a cat you were and how that made you cute." You spoke honestly and directly, not breaking eye contact.
You watched in amusement as his still-not-fully-awake brain processed your words. A soft blush bloomed on his cheeks that steadily grew darker in color before he shoved his face back into your chest, whining softly.
"Evil. Your evil."
You laughed softly as you let him hide his face.
"Like I said, cute."
"Shut up."
The conversation lulled after that, as the both of you took in the comfort of waking up in another person's arms, warm.
"Do you want some coffee?"
He hummed softly as he processed the unspoken words.
'We need to talk about it.'
"Sure" He spoke yet didn't move from the warmth of your body.
You sighed as you ran your hand down his back before forcing yourself out of the warmth of your bed.
"I'll call to you when the pot is done." You remarked as you walked out of your room toward the kitchen.
You hummed softly as you waited for the pot to brew, your mind drifting.
You knew roughly the reason behind Dazai's leaving but you still wanted to hear him explain his thought process.
And, more than anything, you wanted to hear a damn apology. Not just for leaving you, but for leaving Chuuya, and for blowing up his car, because that was a low blow. Yet you also still understood his reason behind that action as well. A silent message to not follow, to not look for him.
It would be nice if you could get Dazai to apologize directly to Chuuya, but you knew that it would be like trying to pull teeth.
You were jolted from your thoughts as the coffee pot beeped at you.
You methodically pulled out a mug and began filling it, leaving enough space for creamer.
You blinked.
Right.
You reached for another cup, placing it on the island counter as you called out for Dazai through the silence.
You began to fill his cup when you heard a thump from your room followed by what sounded like cloth against the floor.
You looked up as you were about to start pouring creamer into Dazai's mug, you paused at the sight of Dazai being practically swallowed by the fitted blankets he had pulled from your bed.
You chuckled softly.
"It's cold. Stop laughing." He pouted, his lips pulled down in a way that only made you chuckle more.
Cute.
"How are you planning to drink your coffee with all the blankets on?"
He didn’t respond as he walked, or rather waddled, over to a stool at the island counter. You finished pouring the creamer into his coffee as he maneuvered himself onto the stool with the blankets still practically swallowing him. You push the mug towards him as you take your own mug in hand.
You watch as he brings up his hands, wrapped up under the edges of the blankets, to wrap around the mug. The blankets keep him from moving his arms much, so he has to hunch forward to take a sip of his coffee.
“You know it’d be easier if you just took the blankets off?”
“It’s cold.” A pout pulled at his lips again and a petulant whine left him.
“I have jackets that should fit you.”
“The blankets were right there though.”
“More like you're just lazy…” You mumbled under your breath, sipping at your coffee.
You cleared your throat.
“So…”
He didn’t speak up, but he glanced up at you from where he was hunched over his mug.
“I… already know mostly everything with Oda…, but could you tell me what solidified your decision?” You asked, tone hesitant and unsure.
You watched as he stared into his mug, worried he would try and avoid talking. He never did like talking about his problems. Not that you could talk, you were the same, preferring to simply enjoy each other’s company without ever talking about your problems. Of course, that was before he left, now you spent your time having a glass of fine wine with Chuuya. On those nights, typically, only Chuuya would talk, with you speaking up mostly to keep the conversation going.
“There were… many reasons… behind my decision.” He paused; the silence awkward but he clearly was going to say more. “Odasaku’s… um…” He didn’t look up at you, but you could hear as he tried to hide the cracking of his voice.
“Take your time, there’s no rush.” You hummed softly as he struggled to find his words.
“Right.”
You sipped from your mug as you waited for him to continue.
“Odasaku’s last words to me… he asked me to…”
“I understand.” You didn’t want to force him to answer when you could put the pieces together yourself. “And the… other reasons?”
He idly sipped at his coffee.
“Well… before I continue, can I ask a question?”
You looked up from your mug.
“Um… sure, what is it?”
He let out a sigh, it sounded tired. It seemed like he was forcing himself to ask you his question.
Almost like he was scared of what your answer would be.
He huffed out. “What is your opinion of me?”
He didn’t look at you, gaze fixated on his own reflection from where he stared down at his coffee.
You hesitated, not having expected his question.
“My opinion of you?”
You asked more to fill the silence, to allow yourself time to think about it.
You knew that he could be cruel.
You knew that he could be kind.
You knew you felt an amalgamation of feelings towards him.
You felt sadness, that he didn’t tell you anything.
You also felt angry that he left, that he didn’t tell you cause you would’ve-
You would’ve…
You would’ve joined him.
You would’ve left with him.
Because you loved him.
More than anything, you loved him.
Despite everything, you still loved him.
You let out a soft breath.
Looking down at the half-empty mug in your hands.
“Well… I know that you can be cruel, but I also know that you're capable of being kind, of caring for others. And I feel sad and betrayed that you didn’t tell me or leave anything for me to know what you were doing. Angry that you left me because…” You could feel a lump in your throat as you tried to force the words out. “Because despite that… if you had come to me that night… I would’ve joined you.”
You looked up to find him staring at you with a shocked expression, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you found it cute.
“After everything we’ve been through… I’ve seen your highs and lows, I’ve seen you mercilessly kill and torture, but I’ve also seen you with Oda and Ango, with Chuuya. And I… have never hated you. I’ve never thought you to be inhuman.”
You paused. A gentle smile pulled at your lips.
“I still don’t, Dazai.”
“I-…” He looked almost on the verge of tears, and you felt compelled to rush to his side on the other side of the kitchen island and comfort him.
“Well… the main reason I didn’t tell you, or Chuuya was because I was absorbed by my own view of myself… that I didn’t think anyone could possibly see me differently. Especially you… we were similar and so I figured your opinion of me was no different than mine. I believed that with how similar we thought that you must have hated me because-… because I hated myself.”
He looked down at his mug, unable to meet your gaze.
Your heart ached at his words.
“Dazai…” You spoke hesitantly. “Dazai… what is your opinion of me?”
He looked up at you. “My opinion of you?” He repeated your words back at you.
His gaze shifted to the side as a soft pink tinted his cheeks.
“I always thought of you as something of an angel. You were smart but quiet, stern as a mafioso should be, but you were also kind. You formed a connection with me similar to the one I have with Chuuya but different. You understand me in a different way. Like a guardian angel, you’ve stopped me from many of my suicide attempts, maybe even more than Chuuya has. When I watched you fight it was like I was watching an angel of death, bloody, but still pure in a way only you could ever achieve.”
He stopped himself, looking up at you.
You could feel your cheeks burning as he spoke, looking into your eyes.
“I have always loved you. As undeserving as I am, I have always loved my guardian angel.”
“I- you… love me?” You found yourself short of words as your brain tried to process that Dazai, who you have loved for longer than you would like to admit, loves you as well.
As your brain finally caught up, the vibrant blush on your cheeks softened, and the smile that pulled at your lips was just as soft.
Placing your mug down, you reached your hands across the island counter to grab his hands, pulling them from where the blankets were still wrapped around them.
“I love you too, Dazai.”
You watched as the blush on his cheeks grew a few shades darker.
Cute.
You dropped his hands as you walked around the island to stand next to him. He turns towards you, cheeks still vibrantly flushed.
You reach out, your hand hovering over his lower cheek, prompting him to tilt his head up at you.
“May I?”
You could see as he swallowed, calming himself.
“Only if we remain exclusive.”
“And this remains secret.” You added, smiling at him.
You let your hand rest on his cheek, bringing the other one up to rest on the back of his neck, still bare of bandages. You leaned down the rest of the way, connecting your lips with his.
His lips were soft against yours, and the kiss was sweet.
A soft sound akin to a whine left him as you pulled away slowly. You chuckled as he flushed, embarrassed by his own neediness. He pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist as the blankets fell off his shoulders hanging off his waist.
“Shut up.” His voice was slightly muffled from where he pressed his face against your chest.
You laughed. “But I didn’t say anything~.”
“I said shut up.”
“You're even cuter when you're flustered, you know?”
He whined into your chest, refusing to let you see his face.
You stopped teasing him, letting the soft moment consume you in warmth.
“I’m glad you're safe. He’d be proud of how far you’ve come.”
The arms around you tightened and you could barely make out a sharp intake of air. You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through it comfortingly.
“I know he would.”
“I-… thank you.”
A comfortable silence settled on the two of you for a few minutes as you held each other until Dazai spoke up, mumbling softly.
“I’m sorry for hurting you and Chuuya…”
“I forgave you a while ago, and while Chuuya would never say it out loud, he has as well, even if he’s still angry about it.”
“I missed sitting on the dock with you.”
“Those moments of serenity in between the chaos were nice.”
“You have the day off, right?”
“I don’t have work until tomorrow morning. Though, speaking of work, shouldn’t you be at work right now?”
“Unimportant. Anyways we should cuddle and watch something.”
You laughed joyously, your arms tightening around him. “Even after four years, you're still you, huh? I’m glad you’re more open though. Honest. I like being vulnerable with you.” You smiled down at him, moving the hair from in front of his face to behind his ear. “The light suits you, Dazai.”
Dazai hid his face against your chest again, though you could tell he was flushed with how red his ears were.
“I thought I told you to shut up. I demand you carry me to the couch now.”
You scoff playfully. “What are you, a princess?”
“Yes, and you must serve me.” He replied matter-of-factly.
“Right.” You reached down with one hand to grab the blankets that had fallen around his waist, pulling them up around his shoulders and then wrapping them tightly around him. You pick him up effortlessly, chuckling as he lets out an involuntary squeak.
You carried him over to the couch, laying him across your lap as you reached to grab the remote off the coffee table.
“What shall we watch, Your Highness?”
You watch as he thinks over your question before you notice a drop in his mood.
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t like how good you’ve gotten at reading me.”
You chuckle as he pouts. “I’ve always been good at reading you, I’m just choosing to mention what I see now. So, what’s up?”
“Do you still have that watchlist we made when we were 17?”
You smiled at his question.
“Yeah, I never deleted it. And I don’t think I’ve watched anything from it.” You hummed thoughtfully. “Not that I’ve really had the time to anyway.”
“Good. Pick something off of that then.”
“No specific genre?”
“Not really.”
With a soft smile, you click into the playlist of unwatched shows and movies. You pick a random one and start it, more focused on the unguarded and genuine smile on Dazai’s face.
It was nice.
He was alive and doing better than before.
Everything would be fine.
And hopefully, you get him to actually apologize to Chuuya.
Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs
Ship: Dazai x Reader
Prompt: “'Sorry for showing up like this.’ You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. ‘Come in.’”
TW: mentions of death (Oda), mentioned bad home life though not explicit
!Gender of reader is not specified!
A/N: I do plan on making a 2nd part where the reader and Dazai talk things out and get in a relationship, not sure when I'll finish it though
The word count for chapter 1 is roughly 2k
Also, this will be posted on my ao3, link on my master list
You had known Dazai for a long time, perhaps not as long as Chuuya has, but that’s beside the point.
While you had grown up around shady people and been dealing with said shady people’s shady shit pretty much your whole life, courtesy of your shitty, shady parents, you hadn’t actually joined the Port Mafia until you were 17. Two years older than Dazai and Chuuya, but joined the Mafia around roughly the same time Chuuya had.
With your ability, it didn’t take long for you to begin to climb the ranks. It wasn’t like you were trying to specifically reach the rank of executive, but gradually, you crept closer.
About a year and a half after you had joined you had made a name for yourself, and that was also about the time you had met Dazai and Chuuya for the first time during a bigger mission.
You had somehow managed to become something like friends with them on that mission and had become a somewhat regularity to be paired with them on large missions. You were tough enough to handle both their eccentric personalities as well as teasing enough to get along with Dazai and passionate enough to friend Chuuya.
It was a weird trio you had formed, often being the one to defuse them when they began to bicker. And of course, apologizing when they disturbed the everyday citizens with their fighting when the three of you had time off to just be kids.
Over time, you had begun to grow closer and fonder of Dazai, being able to relate to him more often than one probably should, but whatever. Sometimes, the two of you would find each other silently sitting at the docks staring off into nothingness, neither of you would talk, just simply get lost in your endless thoughts while enjoying the presence of someone who was similar enough to understand you.
On one such occasion Dazai had broken the endless silence of the waves below your feet; inviting you to join him to meet with his bar friends. That was when you met Ango and Oda. They were pleasant company and you had found yourself growing attached to them just like you knew Dazai was, though he would’ve probably denied it at the time.
So, when Dazai disappeared one night with no traces, followed by learning of Oda’s death. You knew.
That didn’t make it hurt any less of course. Especially with how his sudden departure shed light on your feelings for him.
While Chuuya presented himself to be finally rid of his presence, you both knew that Dazai leaving had hurt both of you. You had chosen to tell Chuuya Dazai’s reasons for leaving, not wanting the anger of Dazai’s leaving to grow into hatred, besides, Chuuya would’ve pieced it together eventually.
And like that. Everything continued. The Port Mafia didn’t mourn over its losses. Executive duties called.
So, when after 4 years of no contact, to say you were surprised at his being in the ADA would be an understatement.
You hadn’t had the chance to see him yet like Chuuya had but you were there to witness Chuuya’s drunken midnight rant after having invited you over.
“Oh, trust me, he’s as shitty a mackerel as he always has been. He hasn’t changed a bit.” Chuuya slurred off, grumbling under his breath as he laid his head down on the counter.
You were both sitting at the kitchen island, a bottle of some expensive wine brand, open and mostly empty now, was on the counter between you.
You sat with your body facing Chuuya, your head resting in your palm, elbow against the counter.
“Mhm. He hasn’t changed a bit huh?” You spoke more for the simple sake of speaking, entertaining the drunk man before you. You didn’t need clarification of something you already knew.
Dazai had always been capable of doing good. He just didn’t care between doing good or bad, it made no difference to him. He’s only working for the light because it’s what Oda wanted. Dazai not changing wasn’t a surprise. So Chuuya’s following words were a little less than expected.
“Actually…” He paused, slurring off again before clarifying his words, his head remained poised on the counter. “He looked… brighter?” He seemed to question his own words before continuing. “Brighter and healthier. He seemed…” Chuuya trailed off again but not due to his drunken state. He stopped himself from finishing his train of thought.
“Happier?” You finished for him.
He didn’t respond.
After that, you had practically forgotten about Dazai now being in the ADA, too busy with missions and the seemingly never-ending, growing stack of paperwork.
That was until tonight.
It had been a grueling past few days, rainy weather, long meetings, missions to assign, missions to report and file, and of course your endless stack of shitty paperwork that had somehow found itself in your home office, taking up even more of your own time which was already short considering your importance to the Mafia.
After you got home, sometime around the dead-ass crack of dawn, you had only grabbed a cup of coffee, one of the larger mugs you owned, before heading to your office for more work.
Sometime, while in the middle of reviewing some report, you had fallen asleep, lulled by the endless pitter-patter of rain hitting the window in your office.
You had slept most of the day away and upon waking, it had already grown dark outside, probably around 9 or 10 at night now, and you were thankful to whatever divine being had granted you a day off today because you would have been so fucking late. You chose to willfully ignore that Mori-san was technically the one who made your schedule. He was a good boss, competent in his decisions, but he was no divine being.
Stretching in your chair, you could feel the soreness of your muscles from the previous day of work. There was a tightness in your back, worse than it normally was, courtesy of sleeping in your chair.
A knock sounded on your door, soft when it made its way to your ears but still clear as it cut through the silence of the penthouse you called home.
You dragged your body to your door, still completely dressed head-to-toe in your typical Mafia outfit with the addition of a few wrinkles, your shoes clacking noisily on the floor.
“Coming!” You called out before the person waiting behind your door could think to knock again.
Reaching your door, you work through your security system before opening your door, behind, a man you hadn’t seen for 4 years.
Your tiredness slipped away from your body as you gasped. Your body now on alert as you stared at him.
He was dressed in, presumedly, his ADA outfit, light in color. His bandages still covered his neck, probably the rest of his body, but the ones that used to cover his eye were gone. He had clearly gained weight since you had last seen him, though he still lacked a significant amount of meat on his bones someone his age and height should have.
Chuuya was right, he looked happier. No. That was wrong. He didn’t look happy. He looked… sad? Guilty?
They weren’t emotions you were familiar with seeing on him. Sure, you had seen both emotions on people in the Mafia during interrogations… but on Dazai? No. He hardly ever even faked them.
He did look brighter though. Healthier.
He also looked- no was drenched. His clothes were darkened by the rainwater still pouring outside. Dripping water on the carpeted floor. You could see a few dark spots on the floor down the hall, marking his trail.
He beat you to a response.
“Sorry for showing up like this.”
You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. “Come in.”
You stepped to the side, letting him in.
You closed the door behind him as he observed the expensive and modern decorations. It lacked any personality, at least to an untrained eye. If one looked closer, you could make out a knick-knack here or there that didn’t quite fit the rest of the rather drab decorations.
It lacked vulnerability.
Your bedroom, though, where only you went into, your interests bled out.
“I assume your room has more personality than this, no?” Dazai’s tone was off. A half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.
“Vulnerability isn’t something Mafia Executives have the luxury to indulge in often.”
He didn’t respond.
“You can hang your coat on the rack.” You spoke, staring at his back as he walked into your home. “And take your shoes off.”
You turned down the hall towards your room, leaving Dazai to settle.
As you walked you called out to Dazai, not facing him. “I should have some clothes that fit you.” Then as an afterthought, “I want you to take a shower.”
When you walked back into the living room with some clothes, Dazai had actually listened, his coat was hung up and his shoes were in the genkan, he had also taken off his socks, probably soaked after being out in the rain.
You walked up to him, handing him the clothes. “Go take a shower. There should be some rolls of bandages in there, though I’m not sure how many I have left.”
He took the clothes from you silently, then: “Thank you.”
You looked him in the eyes, trying to discern how much you didn’t know about him anymore. How much you needed to learn about him.
“Have you eaten?” You spoke calmly, trying to ignore the thoughts and feelings swirling inside you without end.
“I-…” He hesitated. “No. I haven’t.”
Without another word, you left him to go take a shower. It was probably a good idea to make something to eat anyway, considering you were currently running off of a single cup of coffee.
You decided to not bother to cook and instead pulled out two packets of ramen in part because you were still tired as fuck, and you didn’t know if Dazai’s eating habits had changed or not.
It was better to settle for something simple that he might eat if you were lucky.
It didn’t take long for the ramen to finish heating up and for you to place it in two bowls so you placed them on the table. You were about to go check on Dazai when he turned the corner into the living room.
Something was off, he had changed into the clothes you got for him, and his hair was still wet, dripping water off of his soft curls. He seemed… hesitant -nervous? More so than he had been before taking a shower.
“I made ramen.” You spoke, realizing you had been looking for a bit too long. You gestured to the table with the two bowls full of still steaming ramen.
“Thank you…” His voice was quiet, low. He clearly wasn’t bothering to hide his hesitancy, or perhaps he was just failing miserably in trying.
You sat down at one end of the table and busied yourself with eating. You watched him shift over to the seat adjacent to you.
Your eyes widened in upon noticing. “You’re not wearing your bandages?”
He shifted in his seat, avoiding your gaze.
“The hoodie and shorts are soft…”
The ‘and I trust you’ went unsaid but understood.
Your face softened around the edges.
“Eat.”
He responded with a nod before picking up his chopsticks.
Soon enough you had finished your food, and though Dazai only ate half, it was more than you were expecting him to eat. You placed your dishes in the sink to deal with another time before returning to the table, though you remained standing. Dazai had yet to get up.
“Do you want to watch something? I have a day off so…” You trailed off awkwardly.
He looked up but he didn’t quite meet your eyes.
“Sure.”
The only light currently on was the blue light emitted from the television that was playing some show you were hardly paying any more attention to. After a few episodes, you had shifted from sitting awkwardly on opposite sides of the couch to where Dazai was now practically lying on top of you. He was lying his head on your chest with his face turned towards the screen, invested in whatever show it was that was playing. You had let him pick. You were far more interested in watching as he relaxed into you as you ran your fingers through his now, mostly dry, curls.
“Tired?” Your voice no more than a whisper.
“No…” He responded; a hint of a tired whine interlaced in it. A tone his voice always had when he was tired just didn’t want to sleep in lieu of whatever he was currently doing, which at the moment was watching a show while cuddling with someone he hadn’t seen in 4 years.
“Sure~.” You teased as your nails gently scratched at his scalp.
He grumbled something softly into your chest.
You knew how bad, how dangerous your next thought was. It could end badly for both of you, but you couldn’t help when the words slipped from your tongue.
“Why don’t we go to bed hm?”
He responded with an unintelligible whine, pressing his face further into your chest, as he wrapped his lanky arms around your back.
You sighed softly but even if he had clearly put on more weight, he still wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight against you physically speaking. You gathered what remaining strength you had in you as you wrapped your hands around his waist before shifting to a sitting position. Then you secured your arms under him to lift him up in your arms.
“Come on, you lanky beanpole. Time for bed.”
The talk could wait for tomorrow, after all, he couldn’t leave with his clothes still in the washer.
PT 2